


We Are Forged In Fire (We Will Never Fall)

by InkheartFirebringer



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: 'First Words Spoken' Soulmates, Also the mechanics of the time travel have been altered a bit to suit this AU, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Because this is a fix-it damnit, But Chloe doesn't need to die to fix it, But Max has the most, But not always, Empathic bond as a side effect of soulbond, F/F, Gen, M/M, Max has multiple marks, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Oh and a warning for the general creepiness associated with Jefferson, Platonic Soulmates, Pretty much the same levels as what's in the game, Romantic Soulmates, So do a lot of the characters, So is the storm, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Time Travel, Time travel is still a thing in this AU, and copious swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkheartFirebringer/pseuds/InkheartFirebringer
Summary: Max Caulfield meets Chloe Price at the age of five and knows immediately she will be one of the most important people in her entire life.Soulmate AU of the game, wherein an increased understanding of other people goes a long way towards fixing a great many problems. (Main pairings are Max/Chloe, Chloe/Rachel, Nathan/Warren and Victoria/Kate, although some people do have more than one soulmark and platonic bonds abound in addition to the romantic ones.)





	1. No Matter What, We Will Always Have Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Life is Strange.
> 
> A/N: Well, Before the Storm has pulled me right back into the LiS fandom (although this my first time actually writing for it) – that, coupled with a whole slew of Avengers soulmark fics I’ve read recently were my inspiration for this story. xD

* * *

 

Max meets her first soulmate when she is five years old.

It’s the first day of kindergarten and Max is all but hiding behind a tall, broad oak tree, completely overwhelmed by the noise and clamour of the busy playground, wishing that she didn’t have to go to school at all. She’s so distracted, she doesn’t notice the other girl until she’s virtually right next to her.

“Hi! My name is Chloe Price! What’s yours?”

Max freezes in shock for a moment, before whipping around. The smiling girl next to her has choppy strawberry-blonde hair held back in a ponytail, and the brightest blue eyes Max has ever seen. “It – it’s you! You – you said my words! You’re my soulmate!”

The other girl’s eyes widen in shock for a moment, then an even broader smile breaks over her face, her entire expression lighting up. “Oh man! You said mine too! This is so _cool!_ Oh wow!” And then Max finds herself engulfed in a hug, spinning around as Chloe twirls them both around in dizzying circles, squealing in delight, and Max finds herself laughing out loud, joy fizzing inside her like lemonade on a summer’s day.

_Maybe school won’t be so bad after all._

xxx

_It is most common for people to have one or two soulmates. Three is more unusual, four even moreso, and five is rare. Six or more is nearly unheard of, although there is a documented case of a Frenchman with **ten** marks born in 1962. _

_Soulmarks come in two forms, platonic or romantic. It is up to the individuals to determine the nature of their bond. Some soulmates also develop an empathic connection over time, although the strength of the bond varies depending on the individuals in question –_

“When do you think we’ll meet them?”

Max looks up from her Social Science homework, across the table at Chloe. “What? Who?”

 Late afternoon sunshine slants in through the windows of the Prices’ patio doors, bathing the living room in rich golden light. Chloe’s Chemistry homework lies untouched in front of her, and she’s examining her right arm again, where her second soulmark sits, wrapped around her wrist like a delicate bracelet. “Our other soulmates of course. I can’t wait to meet ‘ _Come with me if you want to live!’_ ” She grins across at Max. “They sound super interesting. And you have _four_ other people still to find!”

“Maybe we’ll meet them in high school,” Max says, closing her book. She can hear Joyce bustling around the kitchen and the smell of roast chicken is starting to float through the house, making her mouth water. “I think we’ve introduced ourselves to virtually everyone in middle school.”

“True,” Chloe groans, slumping over. “Not gonna lie though, Max, at least one of your soulmates kinda sounds like a dick.”

Max can hardly argue with that. ‘ _Yeah, I’ve seen you in class before. Why don’t you do yourself a favour, and just stay out of my way?’_ doesn’t sound like a friendly person. “What about yours?” she asks, to distract herself. “You’re either going to have a crazy-adventurous life when you’re older, or your other soulmate will be a massive Terminator fan.”

“Or both!” There’s an unholy gleam in Chloe’s eyes and a wicked smile on her lips, and Max is struck suddenly by how beautiful she looks, lit by the mellow golden glow of late afternoon sunlight and hopes she isn’t blushing as obviously as she feels like she is.

“I wonder when Joyce will find her second soulmate,” she says, mostly to distract herself.

“Who knows.” Chloe rolls her eyes. “With a soulmark like ‘ _I’ll have the maple and bacon pancakes, with black coffee’_ Mom could literally bump into them at any possible time, given where she works.” She leans back in her seat, watching Joyce moving around the kitchen and an affectionate smile tugs her lips. “They better appreciate her. And get along with Dad too. Soulmate or not, if they don’t like Dad, I’m kicking them out the door.”

Max laughs and smiles at Chloe. “I’m sure they will. How could they not?”

(Less than a year later, Joyce is standing outside the supermarket, a pile of grocery bags at her feet, when the neat black lettering on the back of her left hand changes colour to the faded silvery-white of an old scar. Half an hour later, Max falls off the sofa in the Prices’ living room when Chloe’s scream reverberates through the house and a grief not her own tears through her like a cannon blast.)

xxx

Leaving Chloe behind is the worst feeling in the world.

Max’s mother’s company offered her a fantastic promotion and pay rise if she was willing to relocate to Seattle, and Max does understand, she does but –

She’s leaving Chloe behind.

The whole thing was already in motion when William died but now it feels twice as awful, to leave when Chloe needs her most.

A small guilty part of her is almost a little bit relieved though – their empathic bond could not have come at a worse moment. Chloe’s constant black grief weighs on Max’s heart, dragging her down like a millstone around her neck, but with every passing mile, that weight lessens a little as the bond is stretched thin over the vast distance separating them.

Max adjusts to life in Seattle and for a few weeks Chloe is a distant buzz at the back of her mind, as she explores and goes to school and tries her best to make new friends. (And always, always she looks for her remaining soulmates, the other pieces to complete the jigsaw that she and Chloe began so long ago.) Then her phone buzzes for real and Max stares down at Chloe’s name flashing on the screen.

For a moment, she shies away from answering like she has done for the last couple of days, not sure if she can take the renewal of misery, of the grief that sings between them, for temporary separation and permanent loss alike. But in the end it is that same misery that makes her pick up the phone, because Chloe’s pain is like a black rainstorm in the distance and she can’t let her bear it alone anymore.

Max curls up on her bed with her phone and shares the every single detail of what’s been she’s been doing for the last couple of weeks, deliberately keeping her voice light-hearted, deliberately not focusing on how quiet Chloe’s replies are, and how rough her voice sounds from the crying she’s been doing.

(Chloe isn’t anywhere close to her normal vibrant self and the conversation is every bit as painful as Max feared – but in the distance, she feels the storm clouds lighten just ever so slightly, and knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is the right thing to do.)

xxx

It is two years later and Chloe has seen Max four times in that period.

 It is not enough – it is _never_ enough, but they still bask in each other’s presence, utterly inseparable, barely stopping touching for more than a few seconds the entire week they’re together. They greedily hoard their precious time, knowing all the while that Max will have to go back to Seattle at the end of her stay.

Even now, Chloe can feel a faint trace of Max in the distance, fainter because her emotions aren’t spiking with anything particularly strong at the moment, and has to banish the sudden wild surge of painful longing. _It’s not forever,_ she tells herself. _Max is trying to persuade her parents to let her come to Blackwell Academy for her senior year, remember? It’ll be fine. It’ll work out. Plus, as Mom keeps so helpfully reminding me, it’s motivation to keep my grades up._

Chloe rolls her eyes and snorts in disgust to herself, as she walks along the forest path. Her grades are barely passing muster _(it’s so hard to care about something so pointless anymore)_ , but it _would_ be cool to go to school with Max again. ( _It actually doesn’t matter what it is we do. As long as it’s together.)_ Her soulmate was the one bright point in her otherwise shitty life _(let’s not even touch the whole fucking David situation, I still can’t fucking believe **he’s**_ _Mom’s other set of words)_.

The thud of distant music breaks into her darkening thoughts and Chloe grins, speeding up as she catches sight of lights up ahead, signalling that she’s found the Firewalk gig. _C’mon future, hurry up and arrive!_

(Less than an hour later, a beautiful blonde girl with clear hazel eyes and bright blue feather earrings throws a bottle at a thug’s head and then grabs Chloe’s hand, grinning at her with a wicked smile. “Come with me if you want to live!” Dazed with shock, all Chloe can do is follow, and then, as the lingering fear begins to wear off, something bright and happy starts to well in her chest instead. _Two point of light now, instead of one_.)

xxx

Max would be lying if she said wasn’t at least a little bit jealous. Rachel Amber is beautiful and clever and kind, but most importantly _she’s Chloe’s other soulmate,_ and Max can’t help but feel a little inferior.

She bites her tongue though, concentrating on Chloe’s overflowing excitement and telling herself to stop being selfish. Chloe will have to share her with four other people too, so frankly she has no right to be jealous of Rachel.

She’s still disappointed though when they finally speak through Skype and they don’t have each other’s words. Rachel has two soulmarks aside from Chloe’s, one of which belongs to some guy named Frank (who Max gets a sense that Chloe disapproves of, but she hasn’t said anything outright) but Rachel’s last set of words remain unspoken. It would have been so much better if she and Rachel could have been soulmates too (but when is the universe ever that convenient?)

She can tell Chloe’s disappointed too, but she recovers quickly and as the conversation flows smoothly between the three of them, Max finds herself relaxing. She listens to Chloe and Rachel falling over each to tell the story of last night’s prank on Rachel’s neighbours, choking back their laughter all the while, and smiles to herself. _This might work after all_.

(Max only ends up meeting Rachel four times in total, on each of her biannual visits over the next two years, but those four weeks leave a lasting impression. She can’t deny she’s still sometimes intimidated by the sheer force of Rachel’s personality, and still sometimes a little jealous of the fact that she gets to spend _every day_ with Chloe, but Rachel is undeniably a wonderful person, one that Max genuinely likes, independent of her status as Chloe’s soulmate.

It makes it twice as hard when, on the 21st of April 2013, mere months before Max is due to rejoin them, the words adorning Chloe’s wrist abruptly fade to silver-white. Max is brought to her knees by the scream that echoes over the hundreds of miles separating Arcadia Bay from Seattle, a raw, keening, agonised wail that _keeps on going_ and Max is left curled on the ground, her forehead touching the sidewalk as tears stream down her face. She’s barely aware of the hands on her shoulders, the concerned shouts of people around her, but all she can do is sob until her lungs ache and her vision blurs, because _she’s gone, she’s gone, she’s never coming back, Max, Max, please don’t leave me too, Max please_ –)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I don’t know how many chapters this will have, but I’m estimating about four or five? We’ll see, with any luck my inspiration will hold. Thanks again for reading, if you liked it please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts. :)
> 
> P.S. Obviously, I've fudged Chloe and Rachel's meeting just a tiny bit, mostly because I couldn't resist that quote. xD


	2. This Convergence is Inked Upon Our Skin

* * *

Max fights for the right to leave Seattle early.

There’s no way anything is going to keep her from Chloe’s side now, and her parents back her up, citing soulmate-emotional-trauma legislation left, right and centre with her teachers and the Principal of her school. They win and Max gets to sit her final exams early, and then she is setting off for Arcadia Bay as fast as is humanly possible, willing her parents’ car on with every passing mile.

Chloe all but throws herself at her the second she arrives, and Max can feel her overwhelming relief and joy singing out across the bond, _Max, Max, Max, oh thank God –_

They spend two days just curled up together in Chloe’s room, while Chloe alternates between weeping and clinging to her remaining soulmate, and furiously stalking around her room, yelling about the incompetence of the police, even as her voice cracks with grief. _“An accident!_ Rachel likes hiking in the forest, and so they put that together with the fact they couldn’t evidence of anything, not even a – a – body,” her voice breaks but she pushes on, angrily swiping away her tears, “So they’re just fucking writing her off as having some kind of _accident!_ It’s complete bullshit, Rachel’s too experienced a hiker to make stupid mistakes!”

“What do you think happened, Chloe?” Max asks quietly. “You knew her best.”

Chloe huffs, then turns and flings herself down next to the other girl, curling into her side. Max wraps her arms around her automatically, trying to give her all the comfort she can. Chloe is silent for a few moments, then sighs quietly. “I don’t know, Max,” she mumbles against her side, the heat of her breath making goosebumps rise on Max’s skin. “But I _have_ to find out. I can’t go through the rest of my life not knowing.”

“Whatever you need, Chloe,” Max promises, quiet but fierce, her heart aching for her tough, fragile soulmate. “Whatever you need.”

xxx

Despite their best efforts, they don’t find out much over the summer.

Max finally gets to meet Rachel’s other soulmate ( _the one she actually found, oh God, that means someone out there had her words fade away and never even got the chance to **meet** her)_ and she thinks she would have found Frank intimidating under any other circumstances, but now he just looks broken, his eyes red from crying and his dog pressed against his legs in an futile attempt to comfort him.

“Whatever help I can give you, you have it,” he promises, his voice hoarse with tears. “Anything for Rachel.” His left hand keeps creeping up to touch his right shoulder in a seemingly unconscious gesture, where Max can see faint silver-white words just edging out from the collar of his jacket.

Chloe nods stiffly, briefly touching Frank’s arm in silent acknowledgement before she and Max leave. The two have never got on, but a mutual love and grief for Rachel is definitely something they share.

They spend the rest of the summer trying to find out as much as they can, attempting retrace Rachel’s steps before she died. It’s frustratingly difficult to get a clear picture of anything that happened; Rachel attended one of the apparently infamous Vortex Club parties the night before she went hiking, and all possible witnesses were either drunk, high, or both. And then hungover the next day. (Max isn’t very optimistic about the majority of her future classmates.)

They spend several fruitless weeks searching the forest in the area around Blackwell Academy themselves, just in case. Unsurprisingly, they turn up nothing.

“We won’t give up, Chloe,” Max says, crouching down to where Chloe’s slumped against a tree trunk, hugging her knees to her chest and staring blankly into the distance. She can feel how disheartened the other girl is from the lack of progress.

Chloe nods, still staring into distance. “I – it’s just I can’t help but wish we’d had the same kind of bond you and me have, Max. We never developed the empathic connection – but if we had, I might have – I might have _known_ , I might have felt it when something happened, I would have been able to _do something –_ ”

“You can’t think like that, Chloe,” Max says, kneeling swiftly and pulling her soulmate into a hug. Chloe leans in willingly, curling into the comfort Max provides. “No one can control whether a empathic bond happens or not, you can’t torture yourself by agonising over what-ifs.”

Chloe huffs. “I know that, you dork.” But she relaxes further into the hug, and Max can feel some of her guilt dissipate, easing into tentative acceptance of the offered comfort.

xxx

Max moves out of Chloe’s house and into the Blackwell Academy dorms in the last week of August, and Chloe follows in her wake, helping her shift boxes and unpack, all while keeping up a disparaging commentary on the accommodation specifically and Blackwell in general.

“Chloe, you don’t have to keep trying to persuade me the accommodation sucks in an attempt to get me to stay at your house,” Max says, as she tips her toiletries onto the bed. She can feel Chloe’s anxiety under her brash dislike of the school. “I get this room as part of my scholarship – I might as well use it. Plus you can always crash with me, instead of the other way around.”

Chloe pauses in mid-step, thinking it over and immediately brightens. “Well, I _am_ for anything that involves avoiding the step-douche.”

“Plus it means a shorter walk to classes in the morning,” Max reminds her, a grin tugging at her mouth as Chloe groans.

“That’s not a plus, Max!”

“Hey, you did start attending all your classes again,” Max says, still grinning. “You must care at least a little.”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “I’m not attending for me, Mad Max. You and Mom are the ones that actually care about my stupid education.”

“I know. Thank you, Chloe,” Max says earnestly, beaming at her. “I really am happy you’re here with me.”

Chloe blinks, startled, then a pink flush spreads across her cheeks and she huffs, stalking to the door. “Yeah, yeah,” she says, yanking open. “Let’s go meet your dormmates, already.”

Max follows, still smiling at the mixture of pleasure and embarrassment emitting from her soulmate, and she hopes that this is the start of better things.

xxx

Max finds her second soulmate pretty much completely by accident in the first week of classes.

It’s rarely at the forefront of her thoughts now, after thirteen years of not finding anyone apart from Chloe. But she sits next to a pretty girl in her English class, whose blonde hair is up in a bun, and when she spots the book the other girl is reading she forgets her shyness for a moment, exclaiming, “Oh, is that _The October Country_ by Ray Bradbury? I’ve been meaning to read it for a while now, is it any good?”

A stunned expression crosses the other girl’s face and Max has a moment of self-conscious worry that she just came across as way too eager. Then the blonde girl stutters, “I’ve – I’ve only just started reading it myself, but you can borrow it when I’m done, if you want?”

Then it’s Max’s turn to be shocked and she stares in absolute disbelief. “Are you – are we –?” Her hand unconsciously moves to her left hip where those exact words are written in neat cursive.

The blonde girl laughs, a little teary-eyed but clearly delighted. “I think so. I’m – I’m Kate by the way.” She holds out a hand that only trembles slightly and Max clasps it eagerly, beaming at her.

“I’m Max, and I’m so, so pleased to finally meet you!”

Mrs. Hoida walks in and they have to postpone the conversation until after class, where Chloe joins them. Max feels a flash of surprise and jealousy from her when Max introduces Kate in an excited burble, but Chloe still greets her in a relatively friendly fashion.

They discover that Kate has two soulmates, but Max is the first one she’s found, and that she’s a devout Christian, and has a pet rabbit called Alice whom she adores. Less obviously, but increasing apparent the longer they talk, is that Kate is kind and sweet and shy, and Max is already a little infatuated with how lovely she is.

The bell rings and they have to separate for class, but Kate promises to find her after, and Max and Chloe head off to History together. “I’m happy for you,” Chloe tells her, squeezing her hand briefly. There’s a lingering feeling of jealousy, but it’s undeniable that she’s pleased that Max is happy.

Max squeezes her hand back and beams at her, letting her affection for Chloe blaze across her face and across their bond. “Thank you, Chloe.”

Embarrassed affection blooms from Chloe in return, even as the jealously fades in the face of the undeniable strength of Max’s feelings, and she returns Max’s smile, before gesturing her into the classroom in front of her. “C’mon, Mad Max, we have science to do.”

Xxx

The universe, Max decides less than a day later, is definitely having a joke at her expense.

She walking down the hallway, talking to Chloe (not paying as much as attention to where’s she going as she should), when she collides hard with someone. With a yelp, they both go tumbling to the floor in tangle of limbs.

Max manages to pull back and finds herself face to face with a girl with short blonde hair and sharp features that she recognises from Mr Jefferson’s class. “I am so sorry!” Max exclaims, mortified. She pushes herself unsteadily to her feet, aware of Chloe hovering somewhere behind her as she offers the other girl a hand up. “Uh, you’re doing photography too, right? I’ve seen you before.”

The blonde girl freezes for a moment, an expression of shock crossing her face. Her gaze flickers over Max, before her eyes narrow and her expression hardens into one of contempt. She smacks aside Max’s proffered hand, and rises on her own. “Yeah, I’ve seen you in class before. Why don’t you do yourself a favour, and just stay out of my way?”

Then she shoulders past Max, two other girls hurrying in her wake, and all Max can do is stare after her, stunned by the appearance of another soulmate a mere day after meeting Kate. She recovers a second later, taking a hasty step after her. “Um, wait! Please! Aren’t we –?”

The blonde girl whirls around and snaps angrily, “No, we are _not_! As if someone like _me_ could possibly have anything to do with someone like _you_.” Then she turns, and resumes her march.

Max is rooted in place, the coldness of rejection sweeping over her like icy rain. “No fucking way,” she hears Chloe say beside her. Incredulousness and anger radiate off her blue-haired soulmate, who is glaring after the blonde girl. “ _Victoria Chase_ is one of your soulmates?! What fucking gives universe? And how fucking _dare_ she just brush you off like that? I oughta –”

“No, Chloe,” Max manages to say, placing her hand on Chloe’ arm. Her soulmate is rigid with anger and the potential for violence, but no matter how much Victoria’s rejection hurts, Max doesn’t want her soulmates to fight because of it. “It’s okay. Maybe she’ll change her mind later.”

Chloe glances down at her, and her anger immediately melts into concern. “Max, are you okay? No, that’s a dumb question.”

She tugs Max into a hug and Max leans in immediately, despite them being in the middle of a public corridor. Chloe’s arms make her feel safe and she hides her face against Chloe’s neck, blinking to get rid of the faint prickling of tears. “It’ll be okay. It will.”

xxx

It’s been two days and what Max has seen so far of Victoria hasn’t endeared the other girl to her at all.

She’s trying very hard to keep an open mind (there has to be a reason after all, that fate, or destiny, or whatever, has inked Victoria’s words across her skin and vice versa) but it’s hard when she sees Victoria’s casual cruelty and the effect of her cutting remarks on other people every day in class and in the hallways.

But it’s not until Friday afternoon that she becomes really, truly angry at Victoria. It’s the last class of the day, Cultural Anthropology, and Max and Kate manage to snag seats next to each other. Chloe’s not in this class, but Max can feel the occasional flutters of interest through their bond and thus is thoroughly distracted wondering what’s caught Chloe’s attention elsewhere in the building when it happens.

“Excuse me, Victoria? I’m sorry to interrupt, but would you mind passing me my pen? It’s rolled under your seat.”

Kate’s low, apologetic tone snags Max’s attention, bringing her back to herself, and she turns in her seat just in time to see Victoria, seated on the other side of Kate, blanch in horror. Then her eyes narrow and she hisses venomously, “Oh, you’ve _got_ to be kidding me – is being saddled with one loser for a soulmate not enough?”

Every muscle in Kate’s body seems to lock up for an instant, and her face whitens in shock. Then her expression slowly slides into utter devastation, and Max clenches her fists against the sudden flash of white-hot anger that leaps through her. She’s never been one for violence, or even confrontation, but the sight of tears slowly welling in Kate’s eyes makes Max want to punch Victoria right in her perfect, fucking face.

The bell rings and Max sweeps Kate out of the classroom as fast as she can. She barely manages to get Kate somewhere out of the public eye, before the other girl breaks down into jagged, tearing sobs and all Max can do is wrap her in a hug and hold on tight.

At some point, Max is dimly aware of the door sliding open behind them, and the familiar feeling of Chloe’s presence slips into the room, radiating concern and anger in equal measure. Max meets her questioning gaze over the top of Kate’s head, and gives a slight shake of her own head. She knows Chloe must have been alarmed by her sudden spike of uncharacteristic rage in class, but it’s more important that she comforts Kate first before she explains. _Not now,_ she tries to say with her eyes, and Chloe nods, although her dissatisfaction with the situation is evident as she leans back against the wall.

Eventually, Kate’s sobs trail off and she goes quiet, sniffling against Max’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she mutters, low and miserable. “This is stupid of me – I know she’s your soulmate too –”

“Don’t apologise,” Max says, anger flaring inside her again. “I think it’s okay to be disappointed when a soulmate turns out to be someone like Victoria Chase. She has _everything_ – what possible reason could she have to be so cruel to virtually everyone she meets?”

“ _Especially_ her soulmates,” Chloe cuts in, dark and furious. Max can see the realisation on her face, the thunderous look in her bright blue eyes. “Doesn’t she know what a fucking blessing it is to find them? Ungrateful bitch.” Anger, and under it, aching grief, flares through their bond, piercing Max through with sorrow.

“I always knew it might happen though,” Kate says miserably, leaning against Max. “With a soulmark like that, how could I not? But I guess I always hoped it – it was a joke or something.”

“Maybe – maybe she’ll come around eventually,” Max says. She can’t keep the doubt out of her voice, but surely, Victoria is more than her scathing comments and abrasive exterior.

Despite her uncertainty, Max’s words still make Kate look marginally more hopeful, her face brightening a little. “Maybe you’re right.” She sniffs, brushing away the tears still clinging to her eyelashes.

“C’mon, I think we’ve cried enough over Victoria for one week,” Max says, seizing the opportunity. “Let’s do something fun.”

It doesn’t take her long to coax Kate and Chloe into a movie night, and they’re soon all curled up in a nest of blankets on her bed, eating, drinking and watching a marathon of movie classics. Kate falls asleep halfway through _Grease_ at about 1am, despite Chloe’s not-so-quiet heckling of the film, and Max can only smile at the sight of her face, relaxed in contented sleep.

_With any luck, things might be easier from now on._

xxx

Soulmates, Max decides, are like buses. None for ages and then they all show up at once.

It’s the second week of classes and she’s in Science together with Chloe, the classroom a buzzing hive of activity as everyone carries out a paired experiment. Max is focusing on their work when there’s suddenly a loud bang behind her, the sound of breaking glass and then something splatters across the back of her t-shirt. She practically leaps out of her skin with a loud yelp and Chloe whips around, glaring aggressively at the person behind them. “Hey, watch it jackass!” she snaps, at virtually the same moment as a voice says, with considerable dismay,

“Oh man! That was not what was meant to happen at all, I’m so sorry!”

Max shakes her head in despair at her t-shirt, before turning around to meet the mortified gaze of a boy with messy brown hair, and smile gamely at him. “It’s fine, it was an accident. I have plenty more t-shirts where that came from.”

The boy’s eyes widen in shock, at the exact same time it registers with Max with he just said. “No way,” she breathes, feeling her own eyes go wide, as he starts spluttering in surprise.

Chloe takes one look at them both and rolls her eyes. “Oh for God’s sake. Let’s get through this class and then you two can get acquainted.”

They all get a table together at lunch (Kate’s began eating with them too and the way she both is surprised and pleased for Max definitely gives her a case of the warm fuzzies) and Max discovers his name is Warren. He shares her love of all things geeky, likes art, but _loves_ science.

“I swear, today in class was a total fluke!” he claims, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment, in a way that Max finds very endearing. “Science is normally where I shine, not where I –”

“Accidently throw chemicals over your soulmate?” Chloe interjects with a grin, which prompts a protest from Max, swatting lightly at Chloe as she starts laughing, and Warren apologising profusely again.

When they’ve all calmed down again, Warren asks Max what made her return to Arcadia Bay. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted you’re here!” he says hastily. “But I just wondered why you didn’t stay in Seattle…”

“Well, mostly I’m here for Chloe,” Max says smiling warmly at her blue-haired soulmate. “We found out we were soulmates when we met in kindergarten, and I wouldn’t have left at all if it hadn’t been for my Mom’s job. So basically as soon as I could, I applied for the Blackwell scholarship.” She doesn’t mention the urgency that Rachel’s death leant to the situation – that’s Chloe’s story to share, if she wants to – and carries on in a more light-hearted tone. “Plus, Mark Jefferson is teaching the photography classes here – and how often do you get the chance to be mentored by one of your inspirations?”

“Oh, you’re into photography?” Warren says interestedly, putting his bottle of water back down on the table.

Max nods. “Yep. Always. Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve known I wanted to be a photographer. I prefer analogue to digital though.”

She’s a little embarrassed but Warren seems genuinely interested, and Kate is listening attentively too. “Can we see some of your photos?” he asks and her minor embarrassment turns into major embarrassment at the thought.

“Ah, well, they’re not very good,” she manages to say before Chloe cuts her off.

“Oh, come off it, Max.” She says, half-encouraging, half-exasperated. “Your photos are awesome, stop putting yourself down.”

Max is pretty sure she’s blushing bright red now, but thankfully Kate swoops in to rescue her. “Maybe Max can show us later,” she says, smiling gently. “Class is going to start again in two minutes, we should probably get going.”

“Shoot, I have P.E. next,” Warren groans, his head thunking down theatrically on the tabletop, and Max is quite thankful that the subject is changed as they all start rising from their seats.

_Thank God Warren is such a nice person though. After meeting Victoria…I know Chloe and I used to joke about one of my soulmarks belonging to ‘Asshole Soulmate’, but it really isn’t funny at all now it’s actually happening. And poor Kate deserves better than that treatment too._

xxx

Chloe is crashing in Max’s dorm room that night, as she does most nights, and the conversation has trailed off into sleepiness and silence. Max is nearly asleep, but her brain is still sluggishly turning over the events of the last week and a half.

_God…thirteen years with just Chloe, and now in space of ten days I have three new soulmates, on top of the new school craziness. Thank God Chloe is here to ground me…_

There’s a warm glow that seems to fill her entire chest as she sleepily contemplates how much Chloe’s been there for her, thinking of her brash fierceness and steady reassuring presence always at her side, of her wicked smile and the way she always looks so beautiful no matter what she’s wearing or doing…

It is then, lying in the dark at 2am, with warmth of her sleeping soulmate beside her, that Max comes to a quiet, but somehow still startling revelation.

_I am in love with Chloe Price._

It’s quiet and effortless and gentle but it still somehow steals the breath from her lungs like she’s been punched. Max is suddenly wide awake. Chloe’s back is pressed against her own, a warm and reassuring weight, the sound of her breathing slow and even as she sleeps, and the depth and acuity of Max’s love is so overwhelming that it is an almost painful pressure in her chest.

She blinks away the tears that have unexpectedly welled in her eyes and tries to breathe past the emotion suddenly clogging her throat. She’s always known she loves Chloe, from almost the moment she met her, and while that love has changed and matured over the years, she’s still always believed it to be a platonic bond.

She spends half an hour wrestling with herself, first trying to reason out if it changes anything for her, and then more importantly, trying to figure out if it changes anything for _Chloe_.

 _No,_ she decides at last, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest. _Even if we share a romantic bond after all, Chloe is still grieving the loss of her last one. It would be the height of selfishness for me to drop this on her right now; I can bring it up at a later date, once she’s had a chance to heal._

It takes surprisingly little time for Max to fall asleep after that. After all she’s always loved Chloe; it’s merely the perspective that’s changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh Max. Took you long enough. xD 
> 
> That aside, this chapter was mostly set up, introducing most of the soulbonds (except Nathan, who’s late to the party). Next chapter, the ball starts rolling on the main plot, we’ll have some Kate and Victoria POV (possibly Warren POV too) and Nathan will finally show up. 
> 
> Thanks for reading guys, if you liked it, please leave a comment and let me know what you thought. :)


	3. We Few, We Happy Few

* * *

Despite the tempestuous first two weeks, Max finds herself quickly settling into a routine at Blackwell Academy.

Between spending time with Chloe, getting to know Kate and Warren, _trying_ get to know some of her other classmates and dormmates, attending lessons, doing homework (nudging Chloe to do _her_ homework) and putting any free remaining minutes into searching for more information on Rachel’s disappearance, it’s no wonder that the days slip past so quickly.

Before she knows it, it’s the first week of October, and the trees are slowly turning into a glorious riot of colour, shedding flurries of red and gold and orange leaves every time the wind tosses their branches.  Chloe nearly laughs herself sick when Max, leaning precariously over the back of a bench to get exactly the right shot of the sun shining through the leaves, predictably overbalances and goes sprawling across the grass. Max glares up at her, leaves in her hair, and promptly gets her own back by swiping at Chloe’s ankles.

The blue-haired girl tumbles down with a startled squawk, and Max has a split-second to realise she didn’t quite think this through, before Chloe lands on her. “Can’t – breathe,” she wheezes, flailing ineffectively at Chloe with the hand that isn’t being squashed into the grass by her soulmate’s hip.

Chloe’s look of surprise is rapidly changing into smugness as she grins down at Max. “Well, serves you right for tripping me,” she declares, deliberately letting her weight sag more heavily onto Max. “I think I win this round, don’t I, Mad Max?”

Max is about to grumble back at her, when she becomes suddenly, acutely aware of the way Chloe is pressing against her entire body, warm and soft, and the way her face is mere inches away, blue eyes bright with laughter. Heat curls through Max, desire blooming – and then like a bucket of cold water being thrown over her, she sees Chloe’s expression change, sliding to towards puzzlement.

 _Holy shit! Keep it cool, Max, don’t fuck up!! Remember your calming exercises!_ She clamps down on her emotions as much as she can, trying to smooth herself out into something approaching her usual emotional state, even as she manages to reply, “Yeah, yeah, you win this round. Now get off me before you make us late for class.”

Chloe’s grin sharpens, her earlier quizzical expression fading away, as she pretends to consider Max’s request. “I don’t know, Max, rolling around in the leaves sounds about ten million times more fun than Algebra, if I’m being completely honest. Which I always am, naturally.”

“Chloe!”

Her soulmate laughs, before rolling off her and getting to her feet. Max rises unsteadily too, brushing leaves off her jeans, and trying her best to brush away her lingering attraction to Chloe at the same time. _It’s like now I’ve started noticing how beautiful she is, I can’t freaking stop, jeez._

The last two weeks or so had seen rigorous employment of the techniques taught to Max by Dr Williams, whom her parents had insisted she see after her empathic bond developed five years ago.

(“An empathic bond is a wonderful thing, sweetie,” Mom had said, smiling at her. “But it’s important to understand and regulate it as best you can, for the benefit of both you and your soulmate. Imagine your soulmate being really angry or upset about something – wouldn’t you want to be able to help them, or comfort them, without being completely overwhelmed and distracted by the intensity of their emotion?”)

 _Somehow, I doubt Mom and Dad had ‘hiding your raging attraction to your actually-romantically-bonded-after-all-but-still-grieving-soulmate’ in mind when they sent me to see Dr Williams,_ Max thinks exasperatedly, as they head off to class.

_Life is freaking ridiculous sometimes._

xxx

 

The start of Kate’s first semester at Blackwell has been nothing like she had expected so far.

She was so nervous about coming here, so far from home, that she almost threw up three times in the car on the journey down. The only thing that allowed her to keep a handle on her composure was the knowledge that her parents would freak out and worry they were making the wrong choice in sending her to Blackwell if she actually vomited.

But once she arrived, she surprised herself by settling into a routine quickly, striking up shy conversations with Alyssa and Stella in her History and Algebra classes, and actually enjoying herself in Science for once when partnered up with a guy named Warren, who was very helpful and enthusiastic about what they were learning.

And then it happened. Kate hadn’t been expecting it at all, sitting in her English class and absently reading while waiting for Mrs Hoida to arrive, when a friendly voice suddenly chimed into her thoughts with a comment and a question about _The October Country_ ; a comment and a question that had been wrapped around her right knee in a cute, messy scrawl for as long as she could remember.

Kate had stammered out some response and the other girl had been briefly stunned, before lighting up with delight. _“I’m Max, and I’m so, so pleased to finally meet you!”_

Kate had been blinking back tears for most of the lesson, so incredibly happy to have found one of her soulmates – and the one who was actually be pleased to see her at that. The soulmark on her left shoulder blade had always worried her frankly, and in her more insecure moments, she wondered exactly what kind of person she’d be in the future that they’d her find so offensive. Most of the time, she was more optimistic about it, hoping that it was some kind of joke or light-hearted mockery.

And then three days after finding Max, she met Victoria Chase and had that optimistic hope shattered into a million pieces.

It had taken her about a week to bounce back from that revelation (it helped immeasurably that she and Max were in the same boat, that she has someone alongside her who understood _exactly_ how it felt).

Now it is October, and Kate has begun tentatively thinking about ways to broach the gulf between herself and Victoria. She’s not sure exactly what’s she hoping to accomplish; all she knows is that she can’t leave it like this between them. Kate looks down at the piece of paper in her hand, unconsciously worrying at her lip as she does so, before reaching for her phone and sending off a quick text to Max.

 **[10/04 4.32pm Kate]:** _What are you up to tomorrow night?_

Her phone beeps almost immediately with a reply.

 **[10/04 4.33pm Max]:** _Chloe’s mom Joyce is insisting Chloe come home for a family dinner. I nudged her into saying yes, so now it’s apparently my responsibility to go as well to prevent bloodshed xD_

Kate sighs, her shoulders sagging a little. Max is in high demand as moral support apparently.

 **[10/04 4.33pm Kate]:** _Ah, okay. Good luck :)_

 **[10/04 4.34pm Max]:** _What was it you needed? Can I help?_

 **[10/04 4.35pm Kate]:** _I was just thinking about going to the Vortex Club party tomorrow is all._

Her phone is silent for a moment, and then starts buzzing with an incoming call from Max. Kate blinks in surprise for a second, then picks it up. “Hello?”

“ _Why?”_ Chloe’ familiar voice demands on the other end of the line. She can hear Max’s annoyed cries of _Give it back Chloe, and let go of my head, what are we five again?_ in the background. “Why the fuck would _you_ want to go to a Vortex Club party?”

Her blunt, borderline rude tone makes Kate bristle a little, an instinctive reaction despite knowing Chloe is right in her assessment that Vortex Club is definitely not her usual scene. “Actually, I thought maybe I would get the chance to talk to Victoria,” she says quietly, and hears Max abruptly fall silent on the other end of the line.

“…Oh,” Chloe says, clearly surprised too. Then she rallies, picking up her argument again. “It’s still a stupid idea. Everyone’s going to be high and wasted, they always at those stupid fucking parties, and it’s not like Victoria’s magically going to be a nicer person there. If anything, she’ll probably be even bitchier than usual, being in her element as queen bee of the rich kids’ party.”

Kate gives a quiet hum of acknowledgement, looking down at the flyer in her hand. “I know. But one of us has to reach out to the other first. And what better way, than showing an interest in what she’s interested in?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Then Chloe snorts. “And I thought Max was stupidly optimistic. Jeez.”

There an indignant _Hey!_ in the background from Max, and Kate feels a smile tugging unconsciously at her mouth as the good-natured bickering starts on the other end of the line again. “Thanks for your advice,” she says, over the argument. “But I’m still going to the party – I won’t get anywhere with Victoria if I don’t try. I hope you enjoy the family dinner tomorrow though.”

Chloe breaks off her squabbling, to snort in disbelief and amusement. “Yeah, fat fucking chance of that happening –”

Her voice abruptly gets faint and Max’s voice fills her ear, sounding slightly out-of-breath and anxious. “Hey Kate, I’m really sorry I’m not free tomorrow, I really want to go with you too, but I said to Chloe first –”

“Max, don’t worry, it’s fine,” Kate says, nearly laughing, even as Max’s concern makes her feel warm and cared for. “I’ll tag along with Dana or something, I know she’s going. And I’ll text you when I get back to the dorms, if you’re worried,” she adds, a little teasingly.

“Yes, please do that,” Max says immediately and then Chloe crows in the background, _Aww, I think I should start calling you Momma Max instead of Mad Max,_ and the bickering instantly starts all over again.

Kate hangs up, amidst a storm of playful squabbling and laughter, smiling all the while. She glances down at the flyer, feeling the hope well inside her, and sends up a quiet little prayer.

_Please let me get through to Victoria. Please let tomorrow night go well._

xxx

 **[10/05 9.35pm Max]:** _Hey Kate, hope you’re having fun. :)_

 **[10/05 9.36pm Max]:** _Or at least, that it doesn’t suck too bad. xD_

 **[10/05 11.13pm Max]:** _Kate? Are you okay? Is Victoria being awful? :(_

 **[10/06 12.37am Max]:** _Kate, I don’t want to sound like I’m your mom or something (Chloe will never let me hear the end of it), but plz text me to let know you’re okay. :(_

 **[10/06 1.21am Max]:** _Kate?_

xxx

Max wakes up with her phone in her hand, and for a moment she doesn’t remember why she feels so disquieted, uneasy tension coiling in the pit of her stomach.

Then her memories of the previous night come flooding back and she immediately scrambles to look at her phone. A single message sits on her lockscreen:

 **[10/06 4.57am Kate]:** _Hey, sorry to worry you, got back late, very tired. Going to sleep now._

“See? It was nothing to worry about after all,” Chloe says, yawning in Max’s ear as she peers over her shoulder, squinting in annoyance against the morning sun streaming through the gap in her curtains. “C’mon, let’s go back to sleep, it’s only like nine or something, and it’s a _Sunday._ Meaning no school. Meaning sleeping as long as we want. Especially after last night’s bullshit with step-dick.”

“I’m well aware sleeping is top priority around here,” Max teases, even as she turns and burrows back under the covers. She sends off a quick text to Kate in reply, even as the faint sleepy irritation coming from Chloe smooths back out into the distant peacefulness of true sleep, and Max curls happily back into the warmth of her side.

_There’s time for another hour’s rest with Chloe…and then some of Joyce’s delicious pancakes…and then we’ll head back and find out how Kate’s night went._

xxx

Kate isn’t answering her door.

Max isn’t sure exactly why that fills her with such a sense of dread, only that it does. It’s mid-afternoon and the majority of the dorms are stirring at this stage, albeit with much hungover groaning and complaints about the brightness of the sun. No one she speaks to can tell her anything much of anything, about the party in general or Kate in particular, apart from Dana. The cheerleader confirms they went together, but she lost track of Kate at some point. “It was a crazy night, Max,” she says, leaning against the doorframe, looking very much the worse for wear. “She’s probably still asleep if she didn’t get to bed until super late. It’s not unusual.”

 _Not for anyone else maybe,_ Max thinks, even as she thanks Dana and hurries away, Chloe falling into step beside her. _But Kate doesn’t party and doesn’t drink…I just can’t see her being hungover at all really, let alone to this extent. And the more I think about it, the weirder the timing of that message is. There’s no way Kate would have been out til nearly five in the morning, unless she somehow caught Victoria in an extremely chatty mood and didn’t want to stop talking to her. And I think we all know how likely **that** is._

“You’re thinking hard, Max,” Chloe observes. “And it’s clearly nothing good. What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

“Something feels weird, Chloe. I don’t know what it is yet, but something’s definitely wrong,” Max says, rubbing her arms as a chill passes over them.

They spend the next couple of hours roaming Blackwell in search of Kate in case she’s not in her room after all, periodically returning to knock on her door with increasing anxiety every time. It’s not until nearly 8pm that Max’s phone rings, and she nearly drops it in her haste to accept the call. “Kate!” she cries, relief washing over her, as Chloe hurries to her side. “Kate, where are you?! Are you okay?”

There’s a moment’s heavy silence on the other end of the line and then Kate speaks, her voice thick with tears. “I’m…I’m in my room, Max. Please – please come –” her voice breaks and she lets out muffled sob before the line goes dead.

They book it across campus in record time, and when Kate opens the door, her eyes are reddened and bloodshot, still in her crumpled clothes from the night before. She all but collapses against Max, weeping and trying to speak into her shoulder at the same time, even as Max’s arms come up automatically to encircle her in a protective hug. (Behind them, Chloe scowls at Juliet’s curious face peering around the corner of the corridor, before slamming Kate’s door shut pointedly and leaning against it.)

“ – and I don’t know what happened after that! I swear, I had like a _sip_ of wine, but my memories are just gone!” Kate says miserably. “I didn’t even get the chance to talk to Victoria, and then I felt so sick and dizzy I barely knew which way was up! Nathan Prescott offered to take me to the hospital –”

“Nathan Prescott?” Chloe’s voice is sharp, and Max feels her accompanying spike of surprise and suspicion. “Why the fuck would _he_ offer to take you to the hospital? The guy’s a complete dick.”

“That’s kind of the impression I got as well, from seeing him in class,” Max admits. “We’ve never spoken though.”

“I didn’t think he was that nice either, but he was being kind for a change.” Kate wipes her eyes and Max feels a flash of skepticism from Chloe, but she doesn’t say anything further. “I can only remember things in bits and piece but…it did feel like I was in a car, for a long time. Then I woke up in a room – I thought was the hospital, it was so white and bright. But then I heard Nathan’s voice, and felt a sharp sting in my neck and then…nothing. I woke up here, in my room, like half an hour ago but I have no memory of getting back here last night. I saw your missed calls and texts, but I don’t remember getting them, or sending you that text at 5am, and I feel awful and gross and my head hurts like crazy –”

She stops talking abruptly, trembling all over, and Max can only tighten her grip on Kate, as the blonde girl turns further into Max’s shoulder, as though seeking to disappear entirely. “I don’t what happened,” she says in a tiny voice. “I don’t know what happened to me.”

 Max can only curl around her, desperately trying to provide comfort and reassurance, despite the hollow feeling of horror growing within her. Even that, however, is overshadowed by her sense of Chloe’s mounting rage, matched by the thunderous expression on her face. “It sounds like that fucker drugged you,” she growls. “I think it’s about time we have a little _talk_ with Nathan Prescott about exactly what goes on at his parties.”

“Chloe, wait!” Max says, alarmed as Chloe turns on her heel, yanking the door open. “You’re going _now?_ ”

“Don’t worry Max, I’ll be back before you know it.” The door slams behind Chloe, and Max can feel her storming away, trailing rage behind her like a thundercloud.

There’s ringing silence for a few moments in her wake, then Kate stirs a little. “Do you think – do you think Nathan might have hurt me after that party?” Kate’s voice is hoarse, and muffled against Max’s hoodie.

Max closes her eyes, guilt burning through her. “I don’t know,” she says quietly. “I just don’t know.”

_We should never have let her go alone._

xxx

Despite Chloe’s best efforts, Nathan is nowhere to be found.

A quick phone call to Warren had sent him to meet Chloe as backup, so Max could stay with Kate, but it had been ultimately pointless – Nathan wasn’t in the dorms and didn’t appear to be anywhere on campus either.

Max watches as Chloe paces about her room like a caged lion, utterly fuming. “Can’t believe that fucker – drugging someone as sweet and frankly nauseatingly _good_ as Kate,” she snarls, her anger rippling across the room to where Max is perched on her desk chair. Underneath the anger though, Max can feel something else – a thin thread of black suspicion and growing dread.

“What is it?” she asks, worrying gripping her. “There’s something else, Chloe. What else is bothering you?”

Chloe pauses in mid-step, running a hand through her hair in a stressed fashion. “This – this reminds me of Rachel,” she admits. “The last time anyone saw her was at a Vortex Club party and – and what if these two events are related somehow? What if she was drugged too and something happened to her?”

Something cold is sinking in the pit of Max’s stomach as she stares at her soulmate, rocking back and forth on her heels in the middle of the room, tension in every line of her body. _What if she’s right?_

“We definitely need to talk to Nathan Prescott,” Max says, a little shaky.

“Damn straight we do,” Chloe growls, fire in her eyes. “We are going to get the bottom of this fucking mystery, if it’s the last thing we do.”

xxx

 **[10/06 10.49pm Chloe]:** _Prescott, where the fuck are you? We need to talk. About what you did to Kate Marsh._

xxx

Victoria Chase is having the worst month of her life.

_No, I’m not being overdramatic, Mom, fuck you._

First, she finds out her remaining two soulmates are complete _losers._ The moment when Max Caulfield ran into her in the hallway is so vividly emblazoned in her mind’s eye that she has no doubt she’ll remember it forever. (And not in a good way.)

She’d been so happy when she found out she and Nathan found out they were soulmates last year. _I mean, sure, he has a whole slew of problems, but we’re a good balance for each other. Plus he is one hundred percent the correct kind of person to be associating with. Unlike that stupid hipster bitch._

It had almost felt like a suspended moment in time. Victoria had heard the alarm bells of fast-approaching social ruination; she had almost been able to see the kind of hit her reputation would take, see the crumbling of her power and slow slide into social obscurity.

So she had done what she did best; strike before she could be struck, and publically rejected the other girl. Her reputation might suffer a little from the mere fact that Max Caulfield was one of her soulmates (it had happened in an unfortunately public place after all) but her pre-emptive strike had reaffirmed her image enough to make the damage negligible.

And then Kate Marsh had happened. The moment the other girl had spoken the words delicately looped around her left ankle, she’d felt the bottom drop out of her stomach and the thought of _This cannot be happening **again**_ had had the cruel words spilling from her mouth before she’d had a chance to even think about them.

Kate’s white face had disappeared out of the room, hurried along by the other sad excuse she apparently had for a soulmate, and Victoria had been left sitting, staring after them in horrified shock.

It hadn’t taken long for that shock to melt into fuming anger and for a week, Victoria had been an ordeal to be within twenty feet of, her tongue sharper and her words more dangerous than ever before. She sowed chaos in the general student population, destroying two relationships and four friendships in the span of three days in an effort to vent her fury – and it had left her with nothing but a cold, hollow ache in her chest, the usual thrill of claiming control over _something_ (anything) entirely absent.

The way that two such utterly unacceptable soulmates had just casually meandered into her life, upsetting her mindset and destroying her neatly ordered plans for the future, made her want to scream and claw out someone’s eyes.

Preferably theirs.

Nathan had listened with a sympathetic ear they smoked weed together, curled up on her bed as she bitched about the unfairness of life. “Forget those losers, Victoria. Who needs fucking soulmates? It’s not like they actually make life any fucking better.”

There had been something strange in his tone, almost lost in the usual tidal wave of bitterness. (He’d never quite forgiven his sister for fucking off to join the Peace Corps and her soulmate, ‘doing the work they were destined for’. Victoria can still remember the look on his face when he’d gotten that phone call.) Still, she’d adopted an offended tone, nudging him with her leg. “Excuse me, _I_ am _your_ soulmate, and _I_ am pretty fucking amazing.”

He’d rolled his eyes at her, from where he was languidly sprawled across her duvet covers. He never looked as relaxed as he did when he was high, when the drugs smoothed out all the stress from his face.  “I am _so_ sorry, your highness, whatever I can I do to earn your forgiveness?” he’d deadpanned mockingly. Naturally, she then stole the joint in retaliation, leading to an unexpectedly hilarious wobbly and off-balance tussle for the weed, which had ended with them both on the floor, cackling with laughter despite themselves.

In the end, however, Courtney had ultimately, and unexpectedly, been the one to end her rampage. Despite the fact she and Taylor had received the brunt of Victoria’s rage – more due to proximity than anything else – the other girl had timidly spoken up while they sitting together outside the dorms, checking their Twitter feeds before class. “Maybe you’re thinking about this the wrong way, Victoria,” she had said, biting her lip. “Maybe your soulmates aren’t as uncool as they seem. They have to be worthy to be your soulmates, right? So maybe they don’t totally suck, like, deep down?”

Victoria had stared at her for so long after that daring comment that the other girl had grown very visibly nervous and had already began babbling apologies, when Victoria cut her off with a snapped, “Shut up, Courtney. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Despite her dismissive words, something about Courtney’s comment had made her pause. A tiny voice had whispered, _What if?_

She had begun watching them, her would-be soulmates, with a critical and judging eye, just waiting to be disappointed. And naturally, she was. Caulfield was a self-absorbed poser, always taking selfies like her tragic fashion sense and nearly non-existent make-up actually made for good pictures. _(She doesn’t care what other people think about her – when was last time you walked out the door without giving a shit about what you wearing?)_ And Kate Marsh was a pious goody-two shoes, a relic from the eighteenth century with her ‘no-sex-until-marriage’ crap, and so sickeningly  _sweet_ that it made Victoria want to vomit. _(She’s kind, even to people who aren’t kind to her, and she’s got a backbone of steel when it comes to the things the things she believes in. That stare down she gave Logan, when he mocked her church group…)_

Then, as the days passed, Victoria had begun to notice something. It had started like a quiet humming just on the edge of hearing, and she’d been convinced she was going crazy for a few days. Then the feelings had started trickling through – a flash of annoyance here, a twinge of anxiety there, but overall, a radiating sense of contentment and happiness.

She’d known who it was; it hadn’t taken much observation to pinpoint which of the two losers matched up to the fluctuating emotions she was feeling. _(Every morning, the happiness had soared with the rising notes of a violin, the sweet, bright sound floating down the hall of the dormitory.)_

It had become a constant accompaniment to Victoria’s days, a happy golden hum, like a colony of honeybees busy about their work. Despite her steadfast disregard ( _if I don’t acknowledge it, maybe it’ll go away)_ , it was with her everywhere she went. The hard edge of Victoria’s constant anxiety _(everything has to be fucking **perfect** , it has to be)_ melted away ever so slightly. She found herself snapping less frequently at Taylor and Courtney, found that she was less inclined to make biting remarks about her social inferiors.

And then the Vortex Club party had happened.

Victoria stares down at the phone in her hand. At the utterly damning video that she could upload to the internet at the touch of a button. She should be feeling smug right about now – she knew _sweet, innocent Kate Marsh_ was too good to be true. No one was that fucking naïve and virginal and _pure_.

And she has been proved right. But instead of very justified smugness, all she feels is…a thoroughly baffling anger. Victoria narrows her eyes at her phone, perplexed and not a little irritated with herself, as the sunlight creeps in through her blinds and the sound of the dorms waking up around her for the start of Monday morning classes fills the air. _What the fuck is wrong with me?_

(The night before last she’d been too high and wasted to notice much of anything, but yesterday afternoon, when she’d woken up, it’d had been the first thing she’d noticed. The absolute silence from the bond, such complete and utter nothingness that it had filled her with terror like she’d never experienced before. The same terror had sent her scrambling to throw back her covers and check her ankle, check that the words written there still as black as fresh ink.

They were – and as her fear faded, her heartrate slowing down again, confusion and anger had bloomed in equal measure. Nonsensical words from old fairytales tumbled through her tired mind, the voice of her grandmother murmuring, _And the princess will fall into a sleep like death, so deep that even a soulbond will fall silent, and only true love’s kiss can break the spell –_

Then, as time crawled past in her dorm room, she became aware of the echo of Kate’s emotions again, as though they were returning from someplace far away, surfacing from the depths of the ocean, or rising from the centre of the earth.

And they had been _black_ , black with fear and confusion and creeping dread, a horrible shivering sensation that scraped over Victoria’s nerves like a knife on piano wires, so far from her usual state that it almost didn’t even feel like Kate at the other end of the bond.)

 _And no wonder._ Victoria glares down at the phone, cradled in her perfectly manicured hands. _What a slut Kate Marsh has turned out to be after all. I should upload this video right now and let everyone see what a fucking hypocrite she is._

Before she can tap the button though, something in her twinges, and she hesitates. The memory of the happy golden hum that has been her constant companion for the last few weeks fills her mind, and she gives a growl of frustration, hand clenching convulsively around the phone.

Then Victoria stands, and throwing open her door, marches down the corridor and raps sharply on Kate’s door. 

There’s about twenty seconds of no response, but just as Victoria’s getting impatient, the door opens a crack. Kate peers out and Victoria, despite knowing full well how she’s feeling, is still somewhat taken aback by her appearance. The sharp, wild, jagged emotions from last night have levelled out into a dull kind of misery, one that radiates out from Kate like a miasma, and her reddened, bloodshot eyes and dishevelled appearance reflect that.

Her eyes widen when she sees Victoria on her doorstep, and Victoria is thoroughly astonished to feel something like _happiness_ flare through the other girl for a brief instant. Then it’s gone again, like a beam of sunlight swallowed up by rainclouds.  “Um, hi, Victoria.” Kate looks like she has no idea how to react to finding Blackwell’s queen bee at her door at 8am on a Monday morning, standing there as if this is a regular occurrence. “Can I help you?”

Victoria manages to regain some of her usual poise, pushing past Kate into her room. “Yes, actually.” It’s dark with the blinds still drawn, and she strides over to open them, letting the light flood in. She turns back to Kate, who looks and feels bewildered _(anything is better than that blank misery)_ and holds her phone out towards her. “I want to you to take a look at this. And I want to know what the fuck you’re playing at. Close the door,” she adds, as Kate’s confusion deepens. “I doubt you want an audience for this.”

Kate does as she asks, closing the door and taking the phone, before pressing play on the video. The whining buzz of incredibly loud club music comes through the phone’s speakers, but the sound isn’t what’s really important.

“You know, if you want to pick an image for yourself, you should really stick to it,” Victoria says pointedly, examining her nails. “I mean, ultra-religious-church-girl is a weird one to choose, considering _we live in the 21 st century_, but you should at least try to have some consistency. If you actually prefer to party –”

She glances up, just in time to see Kate’s face go absolutely bone-white as she stares at the screen, and the blast of utter horror that hits Victoria a second later nearly sends her to her knees. Only pride keeps her standing, albeit shakily, and it makes her snarl bad-temperedly, “What the fuck, Marsh, don’t pretend like you didn’t know –”

“No.”

Kate’s quiet, devastated whisper is somehow impossibly loud in the small room. “No, no, no, no, no, no…” she shakes her head, her horrified gaze still locked on the screen. “No, this isn’t me, it can’t be–”

“Newsflash, Marsh, it’s fucking you,” Victoria snaps. “Unless you have a secret – and convenient – evil twin stashed in your closet who’s the real party fiend –”

“No, you don’t understand!” The words burst from Kate, a loud, pained cry as she shoots to her feet. Overwhelming pain and horror and _shame_ roll over Victoria like a tidal wave, as the other girl stares at her, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “I was _drugged_ at that party, Victoria, I don’t remember anything! I went, hoping to get the chance to talk to you, and I had a _sip_ of a glass of wine and I barely remember anything else that happened! Then I woke up in my room yesterday evening –”

Her voice cracks, and she gives a pained sob, dropping back down to sit on the bed, with her hands over her eyes. All Victoria can do is stare. She’s not sure what has stunned her more; the revelation that Kate went to the party hoping to speak to _her_ , or the complete and utter _sincerity_ rolling across the bond from the other girl.

 _She absolutely believes everything she’s saying is true. God, she really **is** that sweet and naïve after all. Fuck. _  And then, as Victoria’s brain abruptly starts shifting gears; _I bet she didn’t even think to guard her drink. She really is a naïve fucking idiot._

 _( **My** naïve fucking idiot,_ a part of her brain says, which she promptly ignores.)

Victoria crouches beside Kate and holds out a hand. “My phone,” she says, in a tone that is more or less a command. Shakily, Kate returns the phone. Victoria holds it at an angle at which the other girl can easily see the screen, before tapping the delete button – and just like that the video is gone, never to see the light of day.

Victoria meets Kate’s stunned gaze levelly. “Now, if you’re very lucky, no else will have filmed you – I think I was the least wasted of everyone there, but I’ll make discreet enquiries just in case.”

“W-why –?” Kate stutters, her shock washing over Victoria. “Why would you help me? I thought you hated the idea of me being your soulmate?”

Victoria fights the urge to grimace, her conscience twinging as she remembers exactly what words she left permanently etched somewhere on Kate’s skin. “Let’s just say, it’s come to my attention it might not completely suck, having you as a soulmate,” she sniffs. “And besides, we have an empathic bond. I can’t go the rest of my life feeling you moping around like a wet weekend; I’ll go crazy. And break out in terrible acne or something.”

With those parting words, she sweeps out of the room, leaving Kate staring after her, open-mouthed in shock.

(There is a faint flutter of something that curls through the bond towards Victoria as she walks back to her room; a weak golden warmth that hums in the distance, like the first notes coaxed from a violin.)

xxx

**[10/07 8.31am Chloe]:** _Don’t think if you ignore me I’ll go away, Prescott. Where the fuck are you?_

**[10/07 12.59pm UNKNOWN NUMBER]:** _You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, you stupid punk bitch._

**[10/07 1.03pm Chloe]:** _Actually, I fucking do, you asshole. You drugged Kate Marsh at that party, and guess what? I know another person who had something awful happen to them after a Vortex Club party. Care to guess who that was?_

**[10/07 1.19pm Chloe]:** _Well, Prescott? Hiding and crying like a little girl?_

**[10/07 1.26pm UNKNOWN NUMBER]:** _Meet me in the disused classroom on the second floor at 4pm. Don’t be late, bitch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh my God, this chapter ended up being way longer than I expected! xD Victoria especially ran away with me at the end there, her POV ended up being unexpectedly fun to write from. Also apologies – Nathan has sort of showed up, but only through memories and text messages. Proper appearance for him in the next chapter for sure, along with Warren’s anticipated reaction. xD
> 
> Thanks again for reading guys, if you liked it, please leave a comment and let me know what you thought! :) I really appreciated hearing your thoughts/comments on the first two chapters, thanks for that. ^_^


	4. Fierce Words, Fiercer Weapons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry that this is later than the other chapters guys! I had a busy weekend and literally only finished this the now. Hopefully you’ll still enjoy it.

* * *

**[10/07 1.31pm Chloe]:** _Hey hippie, Prescott’s agreed to talk to us_

 **[10/07 1.31pm Chloe]:** _And by agree, I mean I threatened his entitled ass until he stopped ignoring me and started threatening me back_

 **[10/07 1.32pm Max]:** _Chloe, are you sure that was a good idea?_

 **[10/07 1.33pm Chloe]:** _What? It got us a result, didn’t it? And threats are the only language that dick understands_

 **[10/07 1.34pm Chloe]:** _Well, that, and elitist asshole, but I don’t speak that_

 **[10/07 1.35pm Chloe]:** _Regardless, we’re meeting him in the spare classroom on the 2 nd floor, after class finishes at 4pm – let’s get some fucking answers_

 **[10/07 1.36pm Max]:** _Definitely_

xxx

“Alfred Hitchcock famously called film "little pieces of time", but he could be talking about photography, as he likely was –”

Max isn’t sure she’s ever been this nervous in Mr Jefferson’s class.

_I mean, of course, I’ve been nervous in his class before, but that’s mostly because I’m worried about looking stupid in front of him because I don’t know the right answers. Or being so shy and nervous that I wind up looking stupid regardless._

This time it’s because she’s well aware of the confrontation that she, Kate and Chloe are going to have with Nathan Prescott is in less than fifteen minutes time and for once, she’s finding it next to impossible to actually focus on Mr Jefferson’s lecture, no matter how interesting it is.

Max glances across at Kate, who’s looking a lot more composed than Max feels. Only the fingers of her left hand, nervously worrying at the hem of her skirt, give away her unease.  After a long argument, they had decided to hang off reporting Nathan to the Principal and the police until they’d spoken to him themselves.

 (In the end, it had been Kate who’d decided the argument. “I want to speak to him,” she had said quietly, her voice threaded with rarely-seen steel, despite her trembling hands. “I want to look him in the eyes and ask him if he hurt me.”

There had been no more disagreement after that.)

Max had also been astonished to hear of Victoria’s visit to Kate this morning. The video was a horrible surprise (both in its distressing contents, and that it existed in the first place), but the revelation that Victoria actually cared, in her own backhanded, awful-at-expressing-it way, was almost equally shocking. Max had hoped that Victoria might eventually come around, but her sudden act of kindness – even disguised with a show of bitchiness and bad temper – had thrown her for a loop.

Kate on the other hand, had looked the happiest Max had seen since the night of the party. “She cares, Max,” she had said, hand finding her cross necklace instinctively, clasping it tight. “She’s awful at showing it, but she does care, deep down. And we have an empathic bond,” she adds, something like wonder creeping into her tired eyes. “I don’t know – I mean I think, with hindsight, I felt a little of it over the last couple of weeks – but it’s unmistakeable now.”

This revelation leaves Max pondering empathic bonds too. She did a ton of research after she and Chloe developed their own, but it’s far from an exact science. _No one can even agree if soulbonds themselves are biological, spiritual, or some combination of both – and naturally everyone has their own, sometimes very vocal, opinion on the subject. Empathic bonds are largely agreed to form over long periods of time between soulmates with extremely close relationships, or sometimes as the result of trauma, or intense emotional upheaval, for one or more of the soulmates involved in the bond._

 _And sometimes,_ Max thinks, contemplating some of the weirder examples she’d found in both the history and social science textbooks, _it just seems to happen for no reason at all. Law of averages, I guess?_

“Max? What about you? Can you tell us?”

Max jolts in her seat at the sound of Mr Jefferson’s voice saying her name, and looks up. She is immediately horrified to realise both he and the entire class are looking at her expectantly. _Oh shit! He must have asked me a question! Fuck!_ “Um, I’m sorry, Mr Jefferson, I don’t know,” she says hesitantly, feeling a hot flush of shame. _I don’t even know what the question was._

He sighs and she kind of wants to fold up and disappear at his clear disappointment. “Make sure you’re keeping up to date with your reading, Max. Does anyone else know?”

He turns his attention away from her, and Max catches Kate’s sympathetic look as she sinks into her seat in embarrassment. _God, he must think I’m a loser. Way to impress one of your idols, Max._

“It was the Daguerreian Process that gave birth to the first self-portraits, which was invented by Louis Daguerre. It gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror.”

Max glances over at Victoria as she answers Mr Jefferson, and her embarrassment fades into surprise at the realisation that Victoria is looking back at her. Instead of mocking however, her expression is oddly contemplative, like she can’t figure something out.

“Very good Victoria! The Daguerreian Process brought out fine detail in people's faces…” Mr Jefferson continues, but Max’s attention is immediately drawn away again by the quiet buzz of her phone.

 **[10/07 3.55pm Chloe]:** _Hey, got out of class slightly early – gonna go scope out the classroom, see you there_

Max stiffens in her seat, alarmed at the thought of Chloe going ahead alone.

  **[10/07 3.55pm Max]:** _No wait we’ll be out in 2 mins_

She types hurriedly under the desk, hastily hitting send before Mr Jefferson turns around. To her increasing concern, there’s no reply, and she spends the last few minutes of class tapping her foot with increasing agitation. She can’t feel much of anything from Chloe, except the low-key impatience and anger she’s been emitting for most of the day, but it’s not terribly reassuring.

The minute the bell rings, she shoots out of her seat, pausing only to snag Kate’s arm on the way to the door. Max thinks she hears Mr Jefferson call her name but pretends she doesn’t over the general clamour of scraping chairs and raised voices, hurrying herself and Kate out the door as fast as possible without actually running.  It makes her feels guilty but not enough to stop – Chloe is her priority right now and she has an awful feeling of dread curdling in the pit of her stomach.

 “What’s wrong?” Kate says as they take the stairs two at a time.

“Chloe’s went ahead on her own,” Max says. Suddenly Chloe’s emotions spike sharply, a ripple of rage and suspicion, and she is _running_ now, pelting down the corridor, her heart in her mouth and Chloe’s name a drumbeat in her head –

She arrives at the door to the disused classroom, Kate at her side, in time to hear Chloe’s voice rise in familiar anger. “ _Bullshit!_ You drugged Kate, you fucker, and I bet you had something to do with Rachel too – did you think no one would notice shit happened to them both at your stupid little rich kid club parties?”

Almost in slow motion, Max sees Chloe stalk forward aggressively, crowding Nathan, even as his own face contorts in rage. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, you stupid dyke, you have _no idea –”_

“Oh, I think I have plenty of ideas about what you’re doing. You’re a sick fuck, you know that Prescott? You’re going to tell me what happened to Rachel, and you’re going to tell me _right now –_ ”

And then suddenly there is a gun pointed at Chloe’s head and Max’s heart is seizing in her chest, as Chloe’s sudden fear joins her own, undercutting her anger. “ _What the fuck?_ Get that gun the fuck out of my face, Prescott,” she snaps, her voice unsteady. “What’s your plan, _shoot_ me? In the middle of campus, in broad daylight? Even you’re not that fucking stupid –”

But Nathan seems beyond reason, shaking and furious. “Don’t _ever_ tell me what to do, I’m _sick_ of people telling me what to do, trying to control me –”

His finger trembles on the trigger, the gun weaving wildly, and Max can’t hold it in any longer, screaming “ _Chloe!”_ just as her soulmate shoves Nathan violently away –

A bang echoes through the room.

Max is vaguely aware of Kate’s horrified scream beside her, but all she can focus on is Chloe; Chloe falling to ground, Chloe with crimson rapidly spreading across her white tank top, Chloe’s terror and horror pouring across the bond, a perfect match to her own –

Max stretches out a hand helplessly, uselessly, desperate to do _something_ , to _save the love of her life –_

Suddenly there’s an odd pulling sensation, like she’s grasping something she can’t quite see –

_– and then the world flows backwards._

“Oh, I think I have plenty of ideas about what you do. You’re a sick fuck, you know that Prescott? You’re going to tell me what happened to Rachel, and you’re going to tell me _right now –_ ”

Max can only stare, trembling and utterly shocked beyond words at the rewound scene before her. Chloe is _alive._ Alive and whole and crackling with fury, and her brain has stalled on the sheer impossibility of it all. Then Nathan pulls out the gun again, and terror and adrenaline flood her system, kicking her into action.

_Not again, you fucker!_

In desperation and inspiration, Max throws herself forward, slamming her entire body weight against one of the stacks of chairs filling the room. It sways and topples forwards as Max cries out a warning. “Chloe, _move!”_

Her soulmate wastes no time scrambling away from the gun and the falling chairs, barrelling towards the door, even as Nathan tries to dodge the chairs himself, yelping “What the fuck?”

“You’re a _fucking psycho,_ Prescott!” Chloe yells over her shoulder, bravado layered over fear, even as Max grabs both her and Kate’s hands, pulling them away as fast as is humanly possible.

“Run now, insult later Chloe,” Max manages to say as they pelt down the corridor, torn between overwhelming relief and residual terror. The feel of Chloe’s hand in hers is warm, her grip tight, and with every beat of her heart, the pulse point in her wrist seems to say, _alive, alive, alive._

“You’ve got it the wrong way round, Max,” Chloe laughs, high on adrenaline. Max can feel the fear and elation running through her in equal measure, but all she cares about is that she _can_ feel it, feel Chloe. She was a hairsbreadth away from losing her forever, and only – only _what_ saved her?

_Something impossible._

xxx

 

They report Nathan immediately afterwards.

(“Yeah, nobody innocent brings a gun to a conversation like that,” Chloe had growled, as they all tried to catch their breath in the foyer. “He’s definitely got something to hide.”)

Principal Wells is not very helpful, his disbelief of their accusations clear. Max pulls Kate away from his office afterwards, as the blonde girl blinks back tears. “Why doesn’t he believe me?” she whispers. “Why doesn’t he believe _us_?”

“Because he’s in the Prescotts’ pockets, that’s why,” Chloe says, moodily. “You’ve got a lot to learn about supposed ‘authority’ figures. I doubt the police will be any better, since Nathan’s father’s money pretty much owns this town – that’s why we need to handle this ourselves. Or find absolute proof. Or shit, both would be fucking great.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Max says determinedly, if a little distractedly.

During the conversation in the Principal’s office, she’d realised that what had happened in that classroom hadn’t been a one-off fluke. She’d reached out again on impulse and _pulled_ , and suddenly they were beginning their conversation with Principal Wells all over again. She’d done it again twice more, just to prove it to herself, and she could still barely believe it.

_I can actually rewind time. This is completely insane._

“Guys,” she begins hesitantly, immediately drawing their attention. “I think there’s something I need to tell you…and it’s going to sound completely crazy.”

xxx

Warren’s semester at Blackwell has been surprisingly good so far.

Class has been great and the bullies haven’t been as awful as usual and – most importantly – he’s finally found one of his two soulmates.

Max is kind and sweet and just as geeky as he is when it comes to movies and TV shows, and finding out they were soulmates had almost made him believe in some sort of higher power after all.  He spent a good week and a half in a sort of happy daze, trailing after her like a lovesick puppy, convinced that they were meant to be, before Kate had pulled him aside.

He can feel his cheeks starting to heat up just thinking about that conversation again. Kate had gently pointed out how close Max and Chloe were, and how exceedingly unlikely it was that Max (or anyone for that matter) had more than one romantic bond, and Warren had suddenly realised why, exactly, the blue-haired girl seemed to glare at him so frequently. He hadn’t even realised he was treading on her toes.

 _Man, that was so **embarrassing.** I made such an idiot of myself without even realising._ He’d been a bit crushed, naturally, but he’d eventually bounced back. Common sense dictated that there was a still romantic soulmate out there for him; he just had to be patient. _And it’s not like I have to stop spending time with Max. She’s still my soulmate and an awesome person – I just have to convince my crush to go away now, and everything will be perfect._

Warren sighs, his head falling forward to thump against his desk. _Easier said than done._

His phone chimes next to his ear and he jumps.

 **[10/07 4.45pm Max]:** _Hey, you busy?_

Warren grins, unable to help the buzz of happiness at the sight of Max’s text.

 **[10/07 4.46pm Warren]:** _Well, I **was** doing homework, but I suppose I’m happy to be distracted. Are we doing movie night?_

 **[10/07 4.46pm Max]:** _I wish. No, I’ve got something important to share with you. And it’s kind of unbelievable. Meet me downstairs so I can let you into the girls dorms._

Warren’s a bit ashamed of the way his mind immediately jumps in the gutter. With a little effort, he drags it back out again and, as his brain begins to turn over her words properly, he starts to frown. _I wonder if this is anything to do with last night?_

He’d been startled to receive a frantic phone call from Max about 8:30pm last night, asking him to meet Chloe accompany her while she hunted for _Nathan Prescott_ of all people. He’d received quite a lot of the story, in the form of angry ranting from Chloe (which was quite intimidating), but Max had filled him in fully when they’d returned to her room later, after completely failing to find Nathan.

The thought of Kate, drugged and alone at that Vortex Club party had made his stomach clench up in knots, like he might be physically sick. _It’s a horrible thing to happen to anyone, but Kate is so kind and gentle… Nathan Prescott is a dick, and a bully, and he’s far from my favourite person, but I never thought he’d do something like that._

 **[10/07 4.47pm Warren]:** _You got it. Is this anything to do with last night?_

 **[10/07 4.48pm Max]:** _It’s **everything** to do with last night – but also so much more. I’ll give you the full story in person._

 **[10/07 4.48pm Warren]:** _Curiouser and curiouser. ;)  I’ll be there in 2 minutes._

He makes it down the stairs in record time, and sure enough, Max is waiting by the door that leads to the girls’ section of the dorms. “Hey Max,” he says, unable to help smiling at the sight of her. _Reign in the butterflies, man._  “I admit, you’ve got me intrigued – what’s the big secret?”

She returns his smile, but he notices that she looks distracted and a little pale. “Hey, Warren. A lot of things went down this afternoon – like, an absolutely crazy amount of stuff. We should probably talk inside –”

The creak of a door opening comes from somewhere behind Warren, and Max abruptly falls silent, paling a little as she stares over his shoulder.

“Max Caulfield, right?” The voice behind him is low and full of barely-repressed anger, and far, far too familiar.

_Oh shit._

Warren turns and sees Nathan Prescott stalking towards them, his eyes fixed on Max. He shoulders Warren aside, hard enough to make him stagger into the wall, and then crowds Max, his body language radiating aggression. “You’re one of Jefferson’s photo groupies.”

Warren pushes off from the wall, glaring at Nathan as he does so, anger welling inside him. _He’s got a lot of nerve acting like this, especially after what he’s done._ Even through the anger though, something about the other boy’s words tickle his mind, like he’s heard them before.

“I’m one of his students, if that’s what you mean,” Max says evenly, her chin tipped up, holding his gaze. The only sign of tension is in her clenched fists.

“Whatever,” Nathan snarls, even as Warren steps forward, reaching for Nathan’s shoulder. “I saw you this afternoon, with that punk bitch –”

Then it suddenly clicks in Warren’s brain, just as Nathan abruptly freezes; at the same time Max’s eyes widen in shock, and she takes a step back, staring at Nathan like she’s never seen him before.

_Those words…_

All Warren can think about suddenly, is that moment two weeks ago when their group had been discussing soulmarks during one of their lunch breaks. At Chloe’s urging, Max had rolled up her t-shirt sleeve, to display the mark at the very top of her right arm, the only one that remained unspoken.

 _“Holy shit._ I don’t believe it – _you’re_ her last soulmate?” Warren blurts out, into the sudden ringing silence.

Nathan’s head whips around so fast Warren can almost hear his neck crack. His face is blank with shock as he stares at Warren, shaking his head. “What – how is this possible – how can you be –”

And suddenly it’s Warren’s turn to feel like he’s been punched in the stomach.

Those shaky, uncertain words are inked across his ribs in an untidy scrawl, and his mind stalls, filled with nothing but white, buzzing shock.

Nathan still looks like he’s seen a ghost, but incredulousness and something that looks oddly like fear is beginning to twist up his face. “This is – this isn’t – I don’t _understand –_ ” His voice is a near whine as he shakes his head, beginning to step back; then in a rush of movement, he’s gone, door banging in his wake.

Max and Warren are left staring at each other, in shared disbelief.

xxx

_Nathan Prescott is my last soulmate._

The words echo around inside Max’s head, but they still don’t make any more sense than they did a minute ago. _And I thought **Victoria** was bad._

The last few minutes feel like some kind of bizarre, hyper-realistic dream (or nightmare) and she opens her mouth to check with Warren that they’re both awake, when the door behind her suddenly flies open and an agitated Chloe spills into the hallway, trailed by a worried-looking Kate.

“Max! Are you okay?!” Chloe demands, striding forward to grab her hands and scan her from head to toe. “Do I need to beat the shit out of someone?”

With a start, Max realises she must have been broadcasting very loudly and tries to bring herself back under control. “I – no – it’s okay,” Max takes a deep breath, trying to reorder her thoughts. “Let’s – let’s go to my room. I guess there’s even more to share now.”

Warren nods in agreement, still looking rather dazed, and a few minutes later, they’re all safely ensconced in Max’s room, door locked securely behind them.

“Okay, spill,” Chloe demands. “What the fuck just happened out there?”

“I –” Max tries to find a way to make it sound better, but can’t. “I – Warren and I – Nathan Prescott is our soulmate.”

There’s a single moment of complete silence, and then predictably, Chloe hits the roof. “ _What the fuck?!”_

Kate doesn’t say anything, but pales rapidly to bone-white, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“Are you sure?” Chloe asks, somewhat redundantly; Max knows she can feel her certainty through the bond. She nods regardless, and Chloe swears again, clenching her fists. “How can that _fucking asshole_ be your soulmate – either of you!”

“Maybe – maybe I was wrong, then,” Kate sounds shaken. “Maybe he’s not what he seems.  He could have been helping me after all.”

Max frowns, her stomach lurching at Kate’s distress. “No, Kate, don’t doubt yourself like that –”

“Yeah, and remember this afternoon,” Chloe growls, pacing around the room. “If he had nothing to hide, why did he bring a gun to threaten me with? Does that seem like the action of an innocent person to you?”

“Whoa, whoa, what gun?” Warren breaks in, looking shocked and Max remembers he’s still not heard any of this part of the story yet. “What exactly went down this afternoon?”

They recount the meeting with Nathan, and Warren’s frown gets deeper and deeper as they go on. “– and I’m pretty sure that’s what he was about to threaten me over downstairs,” Max finishes, twisting her fingers together agitatedly. “Over the meeting this afternoon, and for knowing about the gun. And I suppose for reporting him to the Principal for _having_ the gun, and for drugging Kate.”

She meets Warren’s gaze and he looks about as sick as she feels. _What does it say about me – about us – that we have someone like that for a soulmate?_

Kate is the one to break the silence that has fallen between them. “Either way, this doesn’t have to change anything, does it?” she says hesitantly. “We’re still investigating what happened – and on the subject of Nathan, well,” she falters a little, then presses on. “Innocent until proven guilty, I suppose?” 

“He looks pretty fucking guilty from where I’m standing,” Chloe mutters, even as she twines her fingers with Max’s and gives her hand a gentle squeeze, clearly able to feel her distress.  “But hell yeah, we’re keeping going with the investigation.”

“There’s a small problem with that though.” Warren speaks up, frowning a little. “Unless you guys have missed out some details, wasn’t Nathan our only lead?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Fuck,” Chloe summarises.

It’s then that Max remembers what she’d originally gathered her friends to tell them about, something that she’d totally forgotten in the unexpected shock of finding out that it was Nathan Prescott’s words she had inked across her upper arm. “Actually guys,” she says hesitantly. “You know that thing I wanted to tell you about earlier? I think it might help us get more leads…”

xxx

It’s official. Chloe has the coolest soulmate in the world.

Not only is Max a superhero, she’s a _time-travelling_ superhero, which is totally fucking awesome. _I mean sure, Max needed to demonstrate a few times first, but that’s a reasonable response to your best friend claiming she can rewind time, right?_

(“…Okay, you’re not crazy, but you _are_ on something, right? You’ve not got a contact high from being near Prescott have you? That guy is doped up to fuck all the time –”

“ _Chloe!_ No, I’m not high, here, let me show you –”)

Of course, Warren is even more excited than Chloe, overflowing with eagerness about the prospect of a real life superpower. “Why do you think it happened? How does it work? Oh man, this so _cool,”_ he enthuses, and Max laughs, bright happiness blooming from her for the first time in this entire shitty day.

Kate, on the other hand, looks oddly pensive after Max proves her abilities are the real deal. “Maybe God has blessed you, with something out of the ordinary,” she says finally, her eyes brightening. “Maybe it’s to help bring whoever is hurting people to justice.”

Chloe’s never been much of a believer in religion of any sort, but bringing people to justice is the kind of sentiment she can get behind. “Amen to that,” she agrees, grinning. “And regardless of whether it’s science or God or magical bullshit, you’re right Max – we can totally use your new power to find out the truth about what happened to Kate and Rachel!”

The exhilaration that races through her makes her want to jump and run and whoop, but then Warren speaks.

“Rachel Amber?” he questions, and Chloe suddenly remembers he doesn’t actually know this part of the story. She’d shared it with Kate yesterday, but she’d neglected to mention it when they were filling Warren in. “Isn’t that the girl who vanished from campus last year?”

Chloe exchanges a look with Max, before taking a deep breath and stepping forward. “She was my soulmate too,” she says proudly, defiantly, as she bares her arm. Warren makes a sound of shock at the sight of the silver-white words looped around her wrist; a Faded mark is not often displayed. “She was one of my best friends, and I loved her, and no matter what the police said, her death was _not_ an accident. That I am hella fucking sure of.”

Warren stares at her like he’s seeing an entirely different person, and after a moment, Chloe feels a little self-consciousness creeping in. She straightens up, and looks away, acting nonchalant even as she feels like she should be shaking from the depth of her emotion.  “That’s what we have to prove anyway.”

After that, they settle into a serious brainstorming session, and several hours fly past before Chloe finally kicks them out at 10pm.

“This is _my_ dorm, Chloe, you can’t just kick people out,” Max says, amusement and exasperation bubbling through the bond in equal measure.

“You thank me when you get you get your beauty sleep,” Chloe tells her, grinning. “See you dweebs tomorrow at eight!” she calls after Kate and Warren, before shutting the door.

“I can’t believe _you’re_ excited about getting up early,” Max says laughing as she gets ready for bed.

“Hey, even I can get excited about an early start if it’s because we’re testing out our soulmate’s supercool superpowers!”

It’s no time at all before they’re curled up together in dark, nestled comfortably in Max’s sea of pillows. Chloe’s on the verge of drifting off to sleep, when she feels a tremor in Max, feels the slide of her emotions towards something trembling and raw. She comes fully awake again when she hears Max make a little gasping sob and feels what is unmistakably a tear splash on her hand. “Max?” she asks, concerned, moving to pull her soulmate closer.

“Sorry,” Max whispers back, embarrassed even as she accepts the embrace, tucking her head under Chloe’s chin. “It’s just – it’s just I saw you _get shot_ today, Chloe. I know I undid it…but it still happened for me. I nearly lost you.”

Chloe’s arms tighten convulsively around Max. Yeah, that had been an unpleasant surprise when Max had shared that bit of information earlier, but as far as Chloe was concerned, it was something that had never come to pass. She is far more worried about the effect of seeing her fatally wounded had had on Max.  “I know,” Chloe says, her stomach clenching at the thought of her words on Max turning silver, like Rachel’s had for her.  “But I’m here. I’m real.”

Here, in the cosy darkness of Max’s bedroom, it’s safe to let herself relax, away from judging eyes. It’s safe to let her affection and love flow outwards, with only a hint of embarrassment for being so mushy. And it’s entirely worth it for the way Max sighs and relaxes so quickly it’s like she’s suddenly melted, curled bonelessly against Chloe’s chest.

“It’s like you’re hugging my feelings,” she slurs sleepily and Chloe can’t help but laugh.

“You sound completely stoned,” she teases and Max just hums in response, eyes closing as she curls in even closer.

It doesn’t take Chloe long to fall asleep after that either, slipping contently into sleep with her soulmate in her arms.

xxx

 

 _The darkness is vast and overwhelming and it feels like terror and drowning, like tar filling her lungs and eyes and nose and ears and mouth and she can’t breathe can’tbreathecan’tbreath_ e _can’tbreathecan’tbreathe –_

“ _Max!”_  Chloe’s terrified cry is what breaks through the rending darkness, and suddenly Max is squinting against blinding light. A second later, her eyes adjust and she sees Chloe hovering beside her, an uncharacteristically frightened expression on her face. “Max, are you okay? That must have been one hell of a nightmare you were having.”

Chloe’s tone is a shaky attempt at bravado, but Max can’t focus on it, because she’s _still feeling it_ , feeling that overwhelming terror and it’s _not her own_. It’s not Chloe either, her bond is warm and familiar, even if it’s radiating fright and concern in equal measure right now – this is something else, _someone_ else –

Her phone suddenly buzzes, vibrating with an incoming call, and Max startles so badly she nearly knocks Chloe off the bed. Her nerves feel absolutely shot, and she reaches for the phone with a shaking hand, but Chloe beats her to the punch, scooping it up and scowling down at the screen. “Warren? What the fuck is he doing, calling at two in the fucking morning?”

“Let me answer,” Max says, feeling a sudden sense of foreboding. Chloe glances at her, but doesn’t say anything, placing it in her hand.

Max taps accept and holds it to her ear. “Warren?”

“Max, oh thank God you picked up.” He sounds as shaken as she feels and there’s something like a sob in his voice as he speaks. “You’re the only person I know apart from Kate with an empathic bond and I think – I think –”

“You just developed a bond with Nathan Prescott,” she finishes, her mind racing ahead of the conversation to snap the final connections into place.

“What?” His voice is startled. “How do you know that?”

“Because,” she says grimly, even as Chloe tenses beside her, shock and disbelief radiating across their bond. “I think I just did too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You know that estimate I made in chapter one about this being about four or five chapters? Well, that was clearly wrong, forget I ever said anything. xD Hopefully you guys enjoyed Nathan’s debut and the Warren POV on the situation – some Nathan POV next time and that means all our principal cast will have had a turn. xD 
> 
> Thanks again for reading guys, I appreciate the time you take and the comments you make, it encourages me so much!
> 
> P.S. Also, I meant to say at the end of last chapter, even as I was writing this I noticed how much the butterfly effect came into play just by introducing the concept of soulmates, even with things I never intended – the biggest one so far being that Nathan never drugs Chloe. Max stays in contact with Chloe/is planning to return to Arcadia Bay even before Rachel dies, so Chloe’s need to escape isn’t so overwhelming, so she doesn’t borrow money from Frank to do major overhauls to her truck (plus she’s on much better terms with Frank on account of being Rachel’s other soulmate and knowing about it). This has the knock on effect of Chloe not needing to swindle cash out of Nathan, and therefore she never ends up drugged in his room! There’s still a confrontation with him on account of the Kate situation, but it’s obviously for different reasons this time.


	5. The Shape of Things to Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ahh, I’m sorry this is so late! I was ill for more than a week, and I’ve busy with job applications too, so I (ironically) didn’t have much time to work on this fic. I hope you enjoy despite the lateness (again).

* * *

“I can’t believe we’re sneaking into the boys’ dormitories to comfort Nathan fucking Prescott of all people…” Chloe grumbles under her breath as they make their way quietly downstairs.

“Well, it’s for mine and Warren’s benefit too, if that makes you feel any better,” Max points out distractedly. Most of her concentration is currently taken up by running through the repeating patterns of one of Dr Williams’ calming exercises, trying to simultaneously settle her own emotional state and gain a little distance from the newly formed bond with Nathan.

“That’s the only reason I’m on board with this shitty plan,” Chloe huffs. Max knows she feels at least a little sympathy for the amount of terror Nathan is suffering, but it’s largely overshadowed by her own feelings towards him, in addition to the fact she seems bizarrely offended by the idea that he has an empathic bond with Max too.

They make it downstairs and Warren’s waiting to let them into the male half of the dorms. He looks a little worse for wear, his expression somewhere between shell-shocked and freaked out. “I’m so glad you guys are here,” he says, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “How do you _deal_ with this all the time?”

“You’ve had a pretty shitty introduction to the subject,” Max admits. “But essentially, practise. A lot of empathic bonds form because of trauma or emotional upheaval though on the part of one or both soulmates –”

“Including ours technically,” Chloe cuts in as they start climbing the stairs. “That was the cherry on the shit sundae of that particular day.”

Max grimaces a little. “True.” She catches Warren’s confused look and explains, “Our bond was triggered when Chloe got the news of her dad’s death. We both saw a doctor afterwards, one that specialised in empathic bonds, because of the problems that can come about because of them. Not least of which is something called ‘the bounce effect’, which sounds way cuter than it actually is. It’s basically caused by negative emotions being bounced back and forth along the bond, with the emotion being strengthened and amplified by each successive pass. It kinda creates a vicious cycle and it can only be broken if one or both of the soulmates makes an effort to bring their emotions under control – and to that effect, we were taught calming exercises by our doctors, ways to draw our focus back to our own minds and emotions, to regulate and try to distance ourselves from the bond a little.”

Max pauses, catching the anxious expression on Warren’s face. “Don’t worry, Warren,” she encourages. “It’s not all bad. When you’re both happy, for example, it’s the best feeling in the world, since that kind of cycle works in reverse as well.

“Although we’re advised to rein in that sort of shit too,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes. “In case you like break your brain with endorphins or something.”

Max elbows her in the side, before turning to smile at Warren again as she pushes open the door to his floor. “Don’t worry, we can teach you the exercises, and once you let your parents know, they might send you to see a doctor too. But first…” she trails off, looking down the corridor towards Nathan’s door.

She won’t deny she’s a little bit frightened – the encounter from this afternoon _(was it only this afternoon?)_ is still fresh in her mind. Nathan’s aggression hadn’t left her unaffected, and the dark, roiling sea of his current emotions isn’t any more encouraging. But he is in _pain_ and she can’t just go back to sleep and ignore it – and even if she could, she wouldn’t.

_He’s a scary prick and I don’t think I like him all that much – not to mention he was might have been involved in Kate’s drugging and kidnapping – but I can’t ignore someone who’s suffering. I can’t._

Max takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders, pulling courage from the way Chloe’s hand slips into hers, giving it a quick, encouraging squeeze. “Let’s go speak to Nathan.”

xxx

_“Hello?”_

_His voice echoes in the darkening landscape around him. The air is deep blue, the half-light of rapidly fading twilight, and snow is falling softly on the towering, dark hedges surrounding him._

_It’s absolutely silent, apart from the thin, frail sound of his own voice. “Hello?”_

_There is no response, and Nathan’s pulse quickens as some nameless fear crawls over his skin. He doesn’t know why he’s frightened, why there’s an awful sense of dread curdling his stomach; there’s no signs of life anywhere, but the hush feels less like peaceful silence and more like an indrawn breath, like a sense of waiting, of terrible anticipation._

_He doesn’t hang around to see what it’s waiting **for**. Breaking into a sprint, he runs through the maze (of course, it’s a maze, it’s not hedges, it’s always been a maze) but no matter how many twists and turns he takes, he never seems to get anywhere and his legs feel as heavy as lead, like he’s struggling for every stride –_

_Then there is a flicker of movement up ahead, and he slides to a halt. Dread rises in him, so thick it’s almost choking, and he doesn’t know why –_

_Rachel steps out from behind the corner._

**_“Rachel,”_ ** _he says, hardly able to believe his eyes (why? why I am surprised?). The giddy delight is almost overwhelming in contrast to his previous dread and he steps forward, smiling in relief, ignoring the unease still tugging at him (something’s wrong, something’s wrong, something’s **wrong)**. “Rachel, what are you doing here?”_

_Rachel smiles and laughs as she steps forward too. “Why? Surprised to see me? You should be.” Her head tilts playfully, but there is something wrong, something wavers in the air and she is still gliding forward but her clothes are caked in earth, her pale skin is greenish and her eyes are sunken black pits, black pits boring into his eyes as she stalks forward, her fingers lengthening and curling into claws –_

_“After all, you did kill me.”_

_He stumbles back with a choked, horrified cry and suddenly she is no longer Rachel, suddenly it is his father looming over him, grabbing him by his collar. “What is **wrong** with you?” comes the hiss. Sean Prescott’s face is a mask of rage and disbelief as he shakes Nathan hard enough that his teeth rattle in his head. “How can someone like **you** possibly be a Prescott? What did I do deserve such a useless fucked-up mess for a son –”_

_His father lets go in disgust and Nathan crashes to the ground, shaking uncontrollably. He looks up and it is no longer his father standing over him, but Kate Marsh instead. Her face is streaked with tears but she is glaring at him, furious. Silver duct tape is still wound around her wrists, jaggedly torn, and she takes a step towards him, small fists clenched. “This is **your fault** , Nathan Prescott, your fault, YOUR FAULT –”_

_And suddenly it is no longer tears running down her cheeks, but blood, blood splashing down and staining her spotless white blouse, splashing over the golden cross hanging about her neck –_

_Then Kate Marsh is gone, and it’s Jefferson who is standing over him. He smiles, and crouches down, bringing his camera up and the flash blinds Nathan momentarily. “ **That’s** what I’m talking about Nathan, that lovely look of vulnerability – but you’ll never understand if you don’t **pay attention,** why am I even **wasting my time** with you –”_

_And there is duct tape around Nathan’s wrists and ankles now, tightening to the point of pain, and now it is around his throat and he is drowning in panic and terror, making high keening noises as it winds tighter –_

_Tighter –_

_Tighter –_

Nathan jerks awake with a cry that is nearly a scream. He thrashes desperately, trying to fight his way free of the blanket that has somehow twisted itself around his neck as he slept, and he falls right out of the bed onto the floor. He is aware of the ugly sobs tearing from his throat, of his skin wet with tears and sweat, of the terror is so strong he can almost taste it. His emotions feel even more scattered and jumbled than normal, like they’re bouncing at him from multiple different places, and he is shaking so hard he knocks over the bottle of pills when he reaches for it.

“Shit, fuck, _fucking hell –”_ His voice cracks, and he sobs again, fury welling up hot and fast as he gropes for the pill bottle and can’t find it, _where the fuck is it stupid useless piece of shit –_

Nathan’s fingers finally close around it and he downs a couple in quick succession. He leans back against the wall and closes his eyes, still trembling uncontrollably. A spark of bright pain draws his attention to his left hand and he looks down to sees his fist clenched so hard that his nails are drawing blood, bright and shining in the dim light of his room. He curses and reaches for a tissue –

There is a knock at the door.

It’s not especially loud, but in the middle of the night any noise sounds thunderous, and he freezes, staring at his door in surprise. It comes again, and he lurches to his feet, padding warily over to the door. _If this is Logan or Zach playing some kind of stupid joke…_

His heart is still beating too quickly from residual terror and he’s still shaking a little as he opens the slightly – to the last people he expected to see on his doorstep at two in the morning. “Graham? _Caulfield?”_

They both look sleep-ruffled and rumpled, with matching apprehensive expressions. “Hi Nathan,” Caulfield says quietly. “Uh, you probably weren’t expecting us…”

“Yeah, no shit.” He automatically falls back on his default general irritation with the world at large, mostly to cover the overwhelming bafflement he’s feeling right now, although there’s plenty of room for annoyance too.  “What the fuck are you losers even doing here?” He gives a smirk he doesn’t feel as he gestures across the corridor. “Are you fucking lost or something? Your room’s right there, Gayram. You losers have fun with each other.”

Graham’s face flushes bright red and he starts spluttering. Caulfield’s cheeks gain a slight pink tint too, but she tips her chin up and stares at him determinedly. “We’re not together like that, Nathan,” she says firmly. “And we’re here for you.”

The directness of both her words and her stare unnerves Nathan a little, which in turns sparks a disproportionate rush of fury at his own lack of self-control. His smirk becomes brittle and edged with anger, and he leans towards her, attempting to intimidate her with his larger frame and proximity. “Well, that’s a nice offer, Caulfield.” He makes sure to look her over, in a way that can’t be mistaken for anything else, before he says, “But you’re not my usual type. If you’re offering though – ”

“Okay, I’ve had just about a-fucking enough of this.”

A familiar, and thoroughly unwelcome, voice cuts in, and he turns just in time to see _that same fucking_ _blue-haired punk girl_ push off from the wall adjacent to his room. Within seconds, she’s all up in his face again, aggressive finger in his face, and the memories of this afternoon are surging to the forefront of his mind, his mood dropping like a stone, even as Caulfield hisses a frantic “ _Chloe!”,_ tugging at the other girl’s arm.

“Listen up, Prescott, we all know you’re a fucking dick, but for whateverthefuck reason, the universe has, in all its infinite wisdom, given you the gift of two awesome fucking soulmates – that you hella don’t deserve by the way – and they were just woken up by whatever freakout you were having two minutes ago –”

“What Chloe is trying to say, is that Warren and I have both developed an empathic bond with you, Nathan,” Caulfield interrupts, her blue eyes fixed on him. “And we were just coming to check you on after what I assume was a nightmare. It felt pretty bad.”

Graham nods in agreement, but Nathan can only stare at them both. He’d been trying not to think about the fact that he’d found his last two soulmates earlier today and had been mostly successful at blocking out any and all related thoughts, but he is utterly unprepared for this curveball. His mind all but stalls on the phrase _empathic bond_ and suddenly he realises what he felt earlier, what he feels _now_ isn’t him being even more scattered and fucked-up than usual – there is a distinct sense of apprehension and hope radiating from two different places, and some part of his brain is telling him that it’s coming from directly in front of him, from the _people_ directly in front of him.

Then suddenly, there’s a rising sense of horror as he stares at them both, his breath coming unevenly _(an empathic bond, an **empathic bond,** there’s no hiding how fucked-up I am from something like that, they’ll know how much of a freak I am) _and their expressions immediately shift to concern, threaded through with alarm, and he _feels_ it, feels the shift –

“Nathan,” Graham starts, starting to stretch out a hand towards him – to do what, Nathan doesn’t know, but he doesn’t let him get that far. The confused maelstrom of emotion churning inside him morphs into bright, familiar fury, and Nathan gladly grabs onto it.

“Get the fuck out of my face, Gayram,” he spits, all bristling, jagged hostility as he backs up into his room. “I don’t need your fucking help, or anyone else’s for that matter, and I definitely don’t need _fucking soulmates –”_ his voice has risen to a near shout and he can’t seem to control his volume, “So why don’t you just do me a favour and _fuck OFF!”_

Nathan slams the door hard enough to rattle it on its hinges and sways on the spot, before sinking abruptly to the floor. He can hear noises in the corridor, of doors creaking open and sleepy, annoyed questions from some of the other guys in the dorm, and the indistinct answers of the three intruders outside his door, but he can’t really focus on any of it.

He buries his face in his knees and fights the urge to scream. Instead, he grips his calves, digging in his nails hard enough to send flares of pain across his legs. He’s not sure how long he sits like that, slowly breathing in and out, but gradually he becomes aware of the two bright spots of emotion on the other side of the door ( _how did I ever think they were mine, they’re so much clearer and brighter than anything I’ve ever felt)._ Just by the faint rustling and murmuring he can hear, and the twin shadows silhouetted against the gap at the bottom of his door, they seem to have sat down and are leaning against it.

Bafflement and anger flicker within him ( _what the fuck are they doing?)_ and he’s on the verge of opening his mouth and shouting at them to fuck off again, when he hears Caulfield suddenly laugh. Clear, bright amusement, golden and thrumming like the notes of a harp comes across one of the bonds and Nathan’s grip on his calves relaxes as he blinks, stunned. A second later, he hears Graham laugh too, his amusement and happiness washing across the other bond, and it’s like the warmth of a roaring fire on a freezing October evening, like sinking into a hot bath after being out in the cold and the rain –

Nathan’s barely even aware he’s crept across the room, curling up against his side of the door. He can feel the wood vibrating with the buzz of their voices, feel it shift as they move and laugh. This close, it feels like he’s floating in a warm ocean, buoyed up by emotions he so rarely gets to feel _(not to mention they’re always fucking tainted when they’re mine, always)_ and while the voice that tells him he’s behaving like a freak is still there, it’s so quiet and far away he can hardly hear it.

Nathan leans against the door, and unbelievably, feels himself relax completely. And then, gradually, his eyes close and he slips into sleep; a truly peaceful sleep for the first time in far too long.

 

xxx

“Wow,” Warren says, sounding dazed.

Max nods, pretty sure they’ve both just experienced the same thing. Feeling Nathan’s churning mess of dark emotion smooth out into something akin to wonder, edged with awe, had been a pretty dramatic change. Feeling the echo of their own amusement and happiness bounce back along the bond as Nathan had relaxed further into the positive emotions they were feeling was also a bit trippy, in a good way.

She closes the YouTube video on her phone, the comedian cut off mid-joke as the app closes, and then leans back against Nathan’s door with a sigh. “Mission accomplished, I guess.”

“Fantastic,” Chloe grumbles. “Now we can go back to bed? It’s like nearly four and we’re getting up at half seven.”

“Aye aye, Captain Chloe,” Max says, smiling despite her tiredness.

Chloe pushes herself to her feet, arching an eyebrow at Max as she holds out her hand. “Is that sarcasm I hear from you, First Mate?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Max promises solemnly, still smiling as she accepts Chloe’s outstretched hand and rises from the floor. Warren follows suit a moment later, casting an uncertain look at Nathan’s closed door.

“Do you think he’ll be okay now?” he asks. “I mean, we don’t even know why he was so terrified to begin with.”

“Well, you’ll both know about it pretty quickly if he isn’t,” Chloe says, rolling her eyes. Max catches a flash of irritation and – _jealousy?_ – from her, before Chloe turns away. “And is it really a surprise that Prescott didn’t immediately spill his guts? That asshole doesn’t seem the sharing and caring type.”

Warren sighs heavily. “No, I know what you mean. I guess I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Goodnight Warren.” Max gives him an encouraging smile and briefly squeezes his arm. “Just call if you’re worried about something, it doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“Yeah, but like do _your best_ to not call until at least half seven, _please.”_ Chloe’s tone is verging on a whine and Max has to stifle her laughter at the waves of tired, grumpy petulance coming off of her. “I need my fucking beauty sleep.”

Warren snorts with laughter, and then adds, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Yes, you do. Goodnight Max, Chloe!” He ducks quickly into his room and locks it behind him; Max is left making strange squeaky noises as she fights to keep her laughter restrained at Chloe’s open-mouthed look of surprised affront.

“That cheeky asshole!” her soulmate finally manages to say, offended and grudgingly admiring at the same time. Max has to drag her away before she loses control of her giggles and they wake up the whole dorm (again).

They make it back to Max’s room without incident and are asleep as soon as their heads touch the pillows.

xxx

They are greeted at precisely seven-thirty am with a series of excited texts from Warren.

**[10/08 7:30am Warren]:** _Hey are you guys up?_

**[10/08 7:30am Warren]:** _Are you ready to try out your superpowers Max??? I’m ready!_

**[10/08 7:31am Warren]:** _I still almost can’t believe it’s really happening_

**[10/08 7:31am Warren]:** _I feel like we’re in a movie!_

Chloe groans and stuffs her head under the pillow as Max sleepily scrolls through her messages. “Can’t we tell him to fuck off?”

“No, Chloe, that would be rude,” Max says, covering her mouth with her hand as she yawns. “Especially since you set the meeting time in the first place.”

“Ugh.” Chloe’s voice is muffled against the pillow but she radiates a kind of grudging acceptance through the bond.

**[10/08 7:32am Warren]:** _Also you guys should the check local news – we apparently missed it, what with all our drama last night, but there was a freak snowfall last night, localised to Arcadia Bay. Totally weird and wrong for the season and the temperature,  everyone’s going nuts._

“Pass,” Chloe announces as Max relays that information to her. “No leftover energy or concentration for random snow showers.” Max is still giggling at Chloe’s grumpiness as they head to the showers together.

It doesn’t take them long to get dried and dressed and at 8am, there’s a knock at the door. Max opens it and Kate and Warren come trooping in, prompting a flurry of greetings. Kate’s still yawning as she talks, but Warren is bright-eyed and excited, brandishing a clipboard in Max’s direction. “Hey Max! I’ve got a bunch of ideas about your power and things we can systematically test –”

“You’re a morning person, aren’t you?” Chloe cuts Warren off, her question more a statement as she eyes him balefully. “Ugh. Anyway, if anyone’s forgotten, the plan for today is to test the shit out of Max’s powers, and then tonight use said powers to bust into the Principal’s office to look at all the classified shit. This’ll hopefully give us more leads relating to any Vortex Club party related offenses – with extra attention paid to Prescott since he’s hella suspicious – which will hopefully in turn give us leads on Rachel and Kate’s situations. But speaking of Max’s powers –” she stalks over and snatches the clipboard, ignoring his protests. “Show me what you’ve got then, Science Boy.”

Max’s eyes meet Kate’s and they both start giggling.

In the two hours they have before class starts, Max finds herself being thoroughly put through her paces. Through Warren’s tests, she discovers she can rewind for approximately five minutes (it seems to vary slightly each time) before her head starts feeling like it’s splitting open and red blotches bloom in her vision. She finds out that she can carry physical objects with her back in time; anything she’s wearing or carrying (regardless of size or weight) goes with her, even if she didn’t originally have it. She also discovers that if she moves from her original position and then rewinds, she can effectively teleport – at least in the eyes of those around her.

“That is so fucking cool!” Chloe enthuses as Max walks back into her room, having disappeared in front of her audience mere seconds before. Testing superpowers (and the three cups of coffee Kate brought with her) appears to have restored her good humour. “Max, I don’t think you get how cool this is!” Warren is similarly enthusiastic in his praise, but Max can only yawn, feeling bone-weary at this point. The distant throb of a headache is beginning in her temples as she plops down on the bed next to Kate, who is watching with a quieter awe.

“Do you mind if I fall asleep on you?” Max murmurs and Kate gives a quiet laugh, as Chloe and Warren start a loud discussion again with much hand waving. They’d told Kate earlier about Warren and Max developing the empathic bond with Nathan, and the blonde girl had had the same sort of unsettled, mixed reaction they all had last night, although she appears to have settled into contemplative quiet since then.

“Not at all,” she replies and Max leans against her shoulder immediately. She is entirely ready to fall asleep again, when something crackles under her left knee.

“Shoot.” Max shifts her weight and rescues the polaroid trapped under her leg. She’d taken it just before they’d started testing; a group selfie of the four of them, Chloe and Warren with giant beaming grins, and Kate and her with small, warm smiles. Chloe had already scribbled _The Almighty Max and her faithful Minions_ on the back with a sharpie, and the sight makes Max laugh a little.

“You’re lucky.” Kate’s smile is soft as she looks at the picture and its annotation. “To have a soulmate so lovely and devoted.”

Max glances at her, surprised, and then beams. “I know. I’m lucky to have Chloe in my life; not everyone understands how special she is.”

Kate coughs a little, still smiling. “That’s probably because she’s not the most…tactful person, and people tend to judge on first impressions. I feel like I’ve got to know her pretty well over the last month, and there’s a beautiful soul under her prickly exterior.”

“I’m glad you see it too,” Max says, unable to keep from grinning. “I’m so happy that Chloe and I have made a friend like you too Kate, regardless of the fact you’re my soulmate – you’re kind and lovely and I’m so, _so_ thankful to have you in my life.”

It’s a little embarrassing to blurt out something so unabashedly sentimental, but it’s worth it for how openly happy Kate looks, even as she blushes in embarrassment from the praise. “T-thank you, Max. That’s kind of you to say.”

“It’s the truth,” Max says firmly, glad to see Kate looking so much more cheerful. She’s seen her gentlest soulmate cry enough in the last couple of days to last her a lifetime. She glances back at the polaroid again, wishing they could all always be as happy as they were in that moment when the camera captured them – and then she blinks, frowning.

_What the…?_

The edges of the picture seem to shimmer slightly, warping and distorting as if in a heat haze. For a moment, Max thinks she hears the sound of faint distant laughter echoing out from the polaroid, four distinct voices mingling together.

Then the world flickers and she experiences a abrupt intense vertigo, like she’s tipping forward, falling into the picture, and it’s suddenly all she can see, the shimmering glossy image expanding and filling up her vision –

The world flashes white and Max’s camera nearly falls from her suddenly nerveless fingers.

“Yes!” Chloe cheers. “You better have made me look awesome, Max!” She jumps off the bed, heading for the desk and Max’s collection of pens, before turning around with a sharpie in her right hand. “Now all it needs is a little…inscription…”

Her voice tails off as she takes in Max’s expression, her face completely white with shock, and Warren and Kate slide forward on the bed, craning around to look at her. “Max? Warren asks worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

xxx

It doesn’t take them long to determine this is another manifestation of Max’s power.

It appears she can jump back in time through photographs, as long as she is either the subject of the photograph or the photographer herself, which they test by giving her a variety of photographs – she only sees the air warp and shimmer around those which it is possible for her to use. Similarly, if the photograph is older than a day, it doesn’t seem to respond regardless.

“Hmm, so it does look like you’ve got some sort of time limit,” Warren says, sounding fascinated as he scribbles away on his clipboard.

“Ironically,” Chloe drawls with a grin. “So it’s either a five minute short rewind, or a long jump back in time, to anywhere within the previous twenty-four hours, as long as you have a picture taken either _by_ you, or _of_ you within that time period. That is so fucking _cool_!”

“I can’t help but wonder too, if the whole photograph thing is because it’s _you,_ Max,” Warren says speculatively. “If someone who wasn’t a photographer got your superpower, would they still be able to do it? Would they be able to do it some _other_ way?”

“If I ever happen to bump into someone else who can time-travel, I’ll be sure to ask them,” Max says, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “And I’m not really a photographer; not a proper one, anyway.”

“Ah, Max, the universe disagrees,” Chloe waggles a pen at her, grinning all the while. “It’s a sign! Your pictures are good enough to bend time itself!”

“Speaking of time,” Kate interrupts, looking amused and saving Max from having to reply to that, “It’s nearly ten, and class is starting soon.”

Chloe and Warren groan but Max is actually mostly relieved. “No, it’s okay, I kind of need a break anyway, you guys – my head’s killing me.”

Chloe’s petulance disappears almost immediately, and she sits up, frowning as she looks Max over. “Are you okay? Do think it’s the time travel? I mean,” she adds, “I was getting something off of you, but I thought it was just a headache from not enough sleep.”

“Maybe?” Max isn’t sure herself, but the pain does seem to be worsening the more she uses her power. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

So saying, she turns and reaches for her hoodie, thrown over the end of the bed – and suddenly agony erupts  in her head, spiking hard enough to make her vision flash white, before all-encompassing darkness rushes up to swallow her whole.

_The wind howls, lashing the trees into a wild frenzy of whipping branches against a dark, thunderous sky. The rain is coming in hard, horizontal sheets of icy water that almost immediately drench Max to the skin and she is shivering uncontrollably from both the cold and utter shock of finding herself somewhere other than her dorm room._

_“Hello?” she calls out, but her voice is lost in the roar of the storm. Max looks around. She’s standing on a dirt road, lined with trees, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, in the cold and the dark as a storm rages around her and she has no idea how she got here. Her confusion and fright are nearly overwhelming, and she stumbles back, arms wrapped around herself in a vain attempt at protecting herself from the driving wind and rain –_

_And suddenly there is a deer in front of her. A doe, with an odd cast to her coat – she almost looks translucent in the low light. She casts Max a glance over her shoulder, before turning around and starting to trot down the road; inexplicably, Max feels the urge to follow._

**_Well, at least she might lead me to shelter or something,_ ** _she rationalises to herself, even as she starts to move. **She’s got to have somewhere to go herself.**_

_Sure enough, despite the buffeting of the wind and rain, it doesn’t feel all that long before a shape looms out of the gloom; Max squints and soon realises that it is some kind of old barn, ramshackle and clearly in need of repair, but still **shelter.**_

_“Thank you,” she says, grateful despite the absurd situation, and makes to move forward – but suddenly the doe is blocking her path. Large, dark eyes look at her and Max has the strangest feeling that she is trying to tell her something, even as the world around her starts to waver and dissolve –_

_“Max!_ Are you okay?! Max, _please_!”

Max’s awareness of the world gradually filters back in. She’s being cradled protectively in someone’s arms and the familiar tangle of _alarm-terror-concern_ radiating from them immediately identifies them as Chloe, even before Max opens her eyes. She looks up into three identical expressions of frightened concern, feeling something warm trickle out of her nose and run down her face.

“Max, what _happened?_ ”

_I have absolutely no idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you guys for all your views, kudos and comments! I really appreciate your support, and reading your thoughts and opinions inspires me so much. ^_^


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